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form  No.  513 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/rudyardkiplingliOOhopk 


THE  GREATEST  SHORT-STORY  WRITER  OF  THE  DAY 

Rudyard  Kipling  and  some  of  his  most  famous  creations 

{From  a  paintiii^^  hy  CyRUS  Cuneo) 


RUDYARD  KIPLING 

A  LITERARY  APPRECIATION   /^/?'^S57 
R.  THURSTON   HOPKINS 


LONDON:   SIMPKIN,   MARSHALL 
HAMILTON,   KENT   &"   CO.   LTD. 


Copyright 
First  published  1 91 5 


SiMPKiN,  Marshall,  Hamilton, 
Kent  &  Co.  Ltd. 


PREFACE 

When  a  man  has  read  once,  or  twice,  or  three  times, 
through  Rudyard  Kipling's  books,  he  will  probably  dip 
into  them  here  and  there  at  intervals.  By  so  doing  he 
gradually  makes  his  own  notebook  on  this  author  ;  but 
it  may  be  that  he  will  yet  find  place  for  another  man's 
"  Kipling  commonplace  book,"  even  if  it  has  no  preten- 
sion to  completeness  or  authority.  The  following  pages 
are  intended  to  furnish  a  popular  guide  to  the  attitude 
and  writings  of  Rudyard  Kipling.  My  original  purpose 
when  the  book  was  first  discussed  with  my  publisher 
was  to  have  confined  the  pages  to  a  brief  outline  of  the 
author's  works.  But  I  had  not  been  engaged  long  on 
the  book  before  it  dawned  upon  me  that  in  speaking  of 
any  one  of  the  author's  books  it  is  always  necessary  to 
say  a  good  deal  about  the  author  as  a  man.  When  a 
man  is  recognized  as  our  first  story-teller  and  at  the  same 
time  as  a  poet  who  has  appealed  to  every  kind  of  English- 
man, from  the  illiterate  pioneer  to  those  who  represent 
the  finest  culture  of  our  country,  he  becomes  a  heritage 
of  the  people,  and  we  are  entitled  to  gather  together  as 
much  information  about  his  life  and  ideas  as  may  be 
possible.  This  task  has  not  been  easy,  for  Rudyard 
Kipling  has  written  of  all  he  has  seen  during  his  residence 
or  travels  in  five  continents.  He  has  absorbed  India. 
Man  and  beast,  native  and  white,  have  been  touched 
upon  with  his  unmatched  picturesque  style.  Count- 
less poems,  criticisms,  and  articles  dealing  with  his  works 
have  been  published  in  every  corner  of  the  world,  so 
I   can  hardly  hope  to  have  included  anything  like  a 


PREFACE 

comprehensive  list  of  them  in  this  volume.  Hovt^ever,  for 
the  convenience  of  students  and  searchers  I  have  compiled 
a  selection  of  criticisms  and  reviews  of  Kipling's  works 
which  have  appeared  during  the  last  twenty  years,  also 
a  list  of  portraits  and  drawings  of  the  author  which  will 
be  found  at  the  end  of  this  book. 

It  will  be  long  ere  the  final  opinions  on  Kipling  can 
be  collected.  Of  late  years  he  has  started  to  restrict 
output,  but  the  works  he  has  given  to  the  public  show 
clearly  he  is  not  a  man  of  yesterday  or  to-day  alone — ^he 
is  also  a  man  of  the  days  to  be.  Kipling  is  a  second-rate 
genius,  which  is  putting  him  about  as  high  up  as  possible, 
for  the  reader  must  remember  that  there  never  has  been 
a  first-rate  genius  this  side  of  the  ''  great  divide."  A 
first-rate  genius  is  always  a  dead  one.  The  man  with 
the  scythe  is  the  only  fellow  who  can  grant  the  superior 
degree.  Since  1886  he  has  been  writing  with  an  un- 
approachable power  of  intense  visualisation  of  all  he 
has  seen : 

In  extended  observation  of  the  ways  and  works  of  man 

From  the  Four  Mile  Radius  roughly  to  the  -plains  oj  Hindustan^ 

and,  naturally,  he  cannot  always  write  well ;  but  if  the 
good  things  he  has  put  forth  were  collected  in  one  volume 
it  would  form  a  book  twice  the  size  of  the  good  writings 
of  Charles  Lamb.  But  there  is  so  much  envy  and  mean- 
ness among  the  living,  that  Kipling  will  not  be  fairly 
rated  until  he  has  been  dead  fifty  years,  and  I  do  not 
suppose  that  he  is  at  all  anxious  to  compete  for  his  final 
degree  just  yet.  Kipling  does  not  pretend  to  be  a  saint ; 
he  is  perfectly  natural,  as  any  really  sensible  man  must 
be,  and  his  advice  is : 

^tand  to  your  work  and  he  wise — certain  of  sword  and  -pen. 
Who  are  neither  children  nor  gods  hut  men  in  a  world  of  men  ! 

But  you  and  I  do  not  have  to  decide  whether  this  man 
is  right  or  wrong.  Time,  the  old  gipsy  man,  takes  that 
vi 


PREFACE 

task  out  of  our  hands,  and  he  has  in  the  past  cultivated 
a  habit  of  reversing  the  judgment  of  the  lower  courts  of 
contemporaneity.  There  has,  perhaps,  been  something 
of  a  slackening  of  public  interest  in  Rudyard  Kipling's 
w^ork  in  the  past  few  years.  But  it  has  been  declared 
that  the  sons  of  the  literary  fops  who  have  been  turning 
their  sweet  fawn-like  eyes  towards  the  works  of  Oscar 
Wilde  and  Ernest  Dowson  will  be  rediscovering  him 
in  twenty  years'  time.  However,  the  production  of 
the  "  Service  Edition  "  of  his  works  by  Messrs.  Mac- 
millan  and  Co.  Ltd.  and  Messrs.  Methuen  and  Co.  Ltd. 
has  met  with  so  ready  an  appreciation,  that  it  augurs  well 
for  a  revival  of  his  fame.  I  believe,  in  fact,  that  the 
renewed  interest  in  Kipling  is  even  now  well  on  its  way. 
The  author  has  deserved  well  of  his  country — firstly  for 
those  strong  true  tales  which  have  made  India  a  real 
place  to  dwellers  in  our  "  tight,  little  island."  This  was 
in  itself  an  imperial  conquest.  Marion  Crawford  and 
other  novelists  had  told  us  that  there  was  such  a  land  as 
India.  Mr.  Anstey  humorously  explained  the  workings 
of  the  Hindoo  mind,  and  Phil  Robinson  gave  us  a  book 
of  Eastern  beasts  and  birds,  but  it  was  Kipling  who  took 
the  soil  of  India  and  moulded  it  into  a  thousand  gleaming 
sentences ;  he  was  the  first  to  give  the  stay-at-home  a 
picture  of  the  real  India. 

I  must  especially  thank  those  people — many  absolute 
strangers — ^who  have  taken  such  interest  in  this  book  and 
so  courteously  written,  mentioning  numerous  points  and 
offering  suggestions.  It  is  with  pleasure  that  I  acknow- 
ledge my  indebtedness  to  Mr.  Wilfrid  Ward,  the  author 
of  "  Poets  on  the  Isis,"  for  permitting  me  to  quote 
"  Stalky's  School  Song."  Sir  Owen  Seaman  has  kindly 
revised  "  A  Verdict  Against  the  Evidence,"  which  he  wrote 
for  the  Londoner  in  1900,  and  given  me  leave  to  print  it 
here.  I  also  desire  to  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  Mr. 
W.  Monro  Anderson  and  Mr.  William  Heinemann  for 
allowing  me  to  quote  from  "  Rhymes  of  a  Rouseabout." 

vii 


PREFACE 

The  portraits  and  drawings  of  Rudyard  Kipling 
reproduced  in  this  book  are  hy  E.  T.  Reed,  B.  Irvine 
Bately,  Hon.  John  ColHer,  and  Cvrus  Cuneo.  I  must 
tender  my  thanks  to  the  editor  of  the  Illustrated 
London  News  for  permitting  me  to  use  the  drawing  by 
Mr.  Cuneo,  of  which  he  holds  the  copyright.  I  am 
indebted  for  numerous  facts  and  data  to  the  back  issues 
of  T.P.V  Weekly,  especially  the  arresting  articles  on 
Rudyard  Kipling  by  Mr.  Holbrook  Jackson.  A  notice 
on  a  performance  of  The  Light  that  Failed,  at  San 
Francisco,  which  appeared  in  the  Argonaut  (January  9, 
1915)  is  here  reprinted  with  the  consent  of  the  writer, 
Josephine  Hart  Phelps.  Mr.  T.  E.  Elwell,  of  West 
Derby,  liverpool,  has  generously  allowed  me  to  use  his 
unique  collection  of  Kiplingiana,  which  has  yielded 
additional  information. 

Much  information,  which  is  almost  entirely  the  result 
of  original  research,  is  contained  in  an  article  by  Adrian 
Margaux  in  the  Captain  (April  1907),  and  to  this  I  am 
indebted  for  the  outline  of  my  chapter  dealing  with 
Kipling's  schooldays.  Mr.  Francis  Stopford,  editor 
of  Land  and  Water,  has  generously  given  permission 
for  the  reproduction  of  his  exceedingly  interesting 
remarks  on  Rudyard  Kipling  as  a  Seer  and  a  Dreamer. 
To  the  kindness  of  the  editor  of  the  Bookman  is  due 
the  article  on  "  Mr.  Kipling's  Schoolmasters  and 
Schoolboys,"  by  T.  E.  Page,  Master  at  Charterhouse. 
I  am  also  indebted  to  Mr.  Ernest  Newman  for  liberty 
to  draw  upon  his  paper  on  Kipling's  stories  which 
appeared  in  the  Free  Review,  December  1893. 

R.  THURSTON  HOPKINS. 
November  191 5. 


vni 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 
BIOGRAPHICAL 

PAGE 

John  Lockwood  Kipling  :  Kipling,  Champion  diver  :  Rudyard  Lake 
in  Staffordshire  :  Kipling's  editor  at  Lahore  :  Robert  Barr, 
Kipling,  and  the  Idler :  A  cover  design  for  the  Idler :  Bloemfontein 
and  the  Friend  17 

CHAPTER  II 

KIPLING  AT  SCHOOL 

The  United  Services'  College  Magazine  :  Kipling's  School  poems  : 
The  author's  first  Empire  verses  :  Kipling  and  the  college  Literary 
Society:  His  opinions  on  the  use  of  alcohol :  Tennyson's "  Defence 
of  Lucknow "  :  Bret  Harte's  *'  Concepcion  de  Arguello " 
Kipling's  short-sightedness  a  handicap  in  athletic  competitions 
Not  a  favourite  v^rith  other  boys  :  A  visit  to  the  old  school 
*'  Hints  on  Schoolboy  Etiquette,"  by  Kipling  27 


CHAPTER  III 

PERSONALITY 

The  Vicomte  d'Humieres  :  An  American  critic  on  Kipling  :  Kipling's 
natural  love  of  Biblical  language  :  The  Bible  and  "  Recessional  "  : 
A  Pall  Mall  Gazette  burlesque  :  "  The  Ballad  of  the  King's  Jest  "       37 


CHAPTER  IV 

SOME  ANECDOTES 

A  perverse  view  of  Kipling  :  "  When  the  Rudyards  cease  from  Kip- 
ling "  :  S.  S.  McClure  :  Kipling's  idea  of  the  mark  of  genius  : 
McClure  and  "  Kim  "  :  J.  M.  Barrie's  story  of  Kipling  :  Kipling 


IX 


CONTENTS 


and  a  Suffragist  :  The  Sydney  Bookfellow  and  a  tiger  yarn  : 
Impressions  of  Kipling  in  Paine's  Biography  of  Mark  Twain  : 
Twain's  pun  :  First  meeting  between  Twain  and  Kipling  :  A 
letter  from  Twain  :  Mark  Twain  and  the  Boers  :  Kipling's  "  Bell 
Buoy  "  praised  by  Twain  :  The  Ascot  Cup  :  Rudyard  Kipling  and 
Mark  Twain  in  robes  of  scarlet  at  Oxford  :  Practical  joke  by 
Kipling  :  Kipling  and  American  publisher  :  Zangwill  and  the 
Pall  Mall  Magazine  ;  Autograph  hunters  :  The  vanishing 
cheques :  Brander  Matthews  in  American  Outlook  :  The  Liver-pool 
Echo  :  A  disappointed  admirer  :  A  Rottingdean  landlord  and  a 
Kipling  autograph  letter  :  "  Dingley,  the  Famous  Writer  "  :  An 
excellent  skit  on  Rudyard  Kipling 


45 


CHAPTER  V 

*'  THE  BRUSHWOOD  BOY  "  AND  "  THEY  » 

Easy  and  contemptuous  style  :  "The  Cruise  of  the  Cachalot" 
American  Bookman  :  Outline  of  "  The  Brushwood  Boy " 
"  They  "  :  Letters  on  "  They  "  :  "  The  Disturber  of  Traffic  ' 
Kipling's  representation  of  mental  moods :  Moonshine  in  "  At  the 
End  of  the  Passage  "  :  "  The  Finest  Story  in  the  World  "  : 
Kipling  a  fallen  idol  :  The  Bellman  of  Minneapolis  takes  Kipling 
to  task  :  Americans  refuse  to  forgive  Kipling  for  not  dying  in 
New  York 


6i 


CHAPTER  VI 

"  FROM  SEA  TO  SEA  " 

The  struggles  of  genius  in  quest  of  bread  and  cheese  :  The  morbid 
side  of  Kipling  :  Chicago  and  its  "  vermilion  hall  "  :  The  Review 
of  the  Week  and  "  From  Sea  to  Sea  "  :  Holbrook  Jackson  on 
Kipling  :  The  shirker  and  the  loafer  :  Kipling's  desire  to  preach  : 
"  The  Benefactors  "  in  the  National  Review 


79 


CHAPTER  VII 

"  KIM  " 

A  brief  outline  of  "  Kim  "  :  Sir  Edwin  Arnold's  interpretation  of  the 
fifth  book  of  the  "  Bhagavad-Gita  "  :  Kim's  prototype  :  Sir 
Francis  Younghusband  on  the  Tibetans :  The  ways  of  the  Indian 
Secret  Service 


91 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  CHARGE  OF  BRUTALITY 

PAGE 

The  charge  of  brutality  :  A  selection  of  letters  from  I.P.'s  Weekly  : 
The  Light  that  Failed,  :  A  strange  plea  for  the  tragic  ending  : 
Maisie  and  Bessie  :  Physical  suffering  in  literature  :  "  The  Vam- 
pire "  :  A  reply  by  Felicia  Blake  :  T.  W.  H.  Crosland's  parody      109 

CHAPTER  IX 

OMAR  KHAYYAM  AND  KIPLING 

Paul  Elmer  More  and  his  "  Shelburne  Essays  "  :  Omar  and  Kipling  : 
Kipling  formulates  a  portable  wisdom  for  the  Anglo-Saxon 
people  :  The  dominant  chord  of  the  English  race  :  Experience 
teaches  :  Verses  from  the  Bulletin  :  Omar  Khayyam  Club  : 
Colonel  John  Hay  :  William  Archer  and  New  York  mechanic        121 

CHAPTER  X 

TALES  OF  HORROR  AND  TERROR 

The  occult  world  :  "  The  House  Surgeon  "  :  An  outline  of  the  story  : 
"  The  Return  of  Imray  "  :  "  Bertram  and  Bimi  "  :  "  The  Mark 
of  the  Beast"  131 

CHAPTER  XI 

KIPLING'S  SPEECHES 

Kipling  as  a  platform  lecturer  :  Kipling  dinner  at  the  Grand  Hotel 
given  by  Anglo-African  Writers'  Club  :  Frankfort  Moore  :  Royal 
Academy  Banquet,  1906  :  Banquet  of  the  Royal  Literary  Fund, 
1908  :  Address  on  doctors  :  Kipling  on  airmen  :  Brighton  Mayoral 
banquet  :  The  principle  of  hereditary  government  defended  : 
Lecture  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  :  Douglas 
Newton's  "  War  "  :  National  Service  League  caravan  at  Bur- 
wash  :  Speech  at  Mansion  House  on  recruiting  bands  :  "  Depart- 
mental Ditties  "  written  to  music  :  "  The  Lincolnshire  Poacher  "  : 
Sir  Henry  Newbolt's  poem  "  The  Toy  Band  "  :  Israel  Zangwill : 
Sir  F.  Bridge  recalls  exploit  of  the  Royal  Irish  :  The  incident 
upon  which  "  The  Toy  Band  "  was  founded  :  Kipling's  address 

xi 


CONTENTS 

PACE 

at  the  McGill  University  :  Kipling  refuses  payment  for  the 
"  Recessional  "  :  "  Some  Aspects  of  Travel"  :  Love  of  energy  : 
"  Boots  "  :  Pressure-lines  :  The  Times' s  editorial  article  on 
aspects  of  travel  :  Smells  in  their  relation  to  the  traveller  :  The 
qualities  of  a  leader  of  men  143 

CHAPTER  XII 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  SEA  LIFE 

Anglo-Saxon  people  and  their  love  of  the  sea  :  The  fascination  of 
ships  :  Ruskin's  "  Harbours  of  England "  :  The  romance  of 
modern  sea  life  :  Swinburne  :  Kipling  as  a  chantey-man  :  Lord 
Arnaldos  and  the  phantom  sailor  :  A  literary  dispute  the 
inspiration  of  "  The  Rhyme  of  the  Three  Captains  "  :  Hardy, 
Besant,  and  Black  :  Paul  Jones  :  Sir  Walter  Besant  and  Robert 
Buchanan  :  A  controversy  in  the  Contemforary  Review  :  Kipling's 
militarism  161 

CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  LIGHT  THAT  FAILED 

The  Light  that  Failed  :  A  happy  or  sad  ending  ?  :  A  notice  of  the 

play  from  the  Argonaut  173 

CHAPTER  XIV 

ANIMAL  STORIES 

Kipling's  animal  stories  :  Cats  :  J.  Lockwood  Kipling  on  cats  :  "  How 
the  Leopard  got  his  Spots  "  :  Alexandre  Dumas  pere  and  his 
pet  :  Jerome  K.  Jerome  :  The  Spectator  on  "  Pussy  cat  "  :  "  The 
Crab  that  played  with  the  Sea  "  :  Wolf-reared  children  :  Wolf 
boy  at  Mission  House  of  Agra  :  "  Old  Man  Kangaroo  "  :  Curious 
facts  about  the  kangaroo  :  Kipling's  imitators  :  The  Review  oj 
the  Week  and  Dr.  Doyle's  animal  stories  :  "  An  Affront  to 
Ganesha  "  :  The  origin  of  Ganesha  :  Kipling's  symbol  of  good 
luck  181 

CHAPTER  XV 
POETRY 

Kipling  an  expander  of  our  language  :  "  The  Seven  Seas  "  and  a  verse 
from  "  Omar  "  :  A  yearning  for  wonderful  words  :  A  song  of  the 
guns  :  "  The  Academy  "  quoted  :  George  Moore's  remarks  on 

xii 


b 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Kipling  :  Pierre  Loti  :  The  Puritan  strain  in  Kipling  :  The 
strenuous  life  as  a  cure-all  :  Carlyle  re-vitalized  :  A  "  Banjo 
Bard  "  :  "  The  Anchor  Song  "  :  Dana's  "  Sailing  Manual  "  :  A 
sea  chantey  :  "  The  Ballad  of  the  Clampherdown  "  :  The  song 
of  the  exiles : "  The  Gipsy  Trail  "  : "  The  White  Man's  Burden  "  : 
A  reply  by  Mr.  George  Lynch  :  "  Departmental  Ditties  "  : 
"  Mary,  Pity  Women ! "  :  A  corrective  note  on  the  poem  :  The  liar's 
defence  :  Veiled  arrogance  in  "Recessional"  :  " Pagett, M.P."  : 
"  An  Unqualified  Pilot "  201 

CHAPTER  XVI 

SUSSEX 

A  gift  of  literary  humanity  :  Imitation  "  style  "  :  "  The  Conversion 
of  St.  Wilfrid  "  :  Pen  pictures  of  the  Downs  :  Kipling's  house 
near  Burwash  :  The  "  gentlemen  "  :  A  worthy  Sussex  parson  : 
The  bell-ringers  of  Burwash  :  G.  K.  Chesterton's  taunt  against 
Kipling  :  Kipling  an  infatuated  admirer  of  rural  England  :  An 
habitation  enforced  229 

CHAPTER  XVII 

"  STALKY  AND  CO." 

"  Stalky  and  Co."  :  The  literature  of  school  life  :  Books  which  in- 
fluenced Kipling  as  a  boy  :  Kipling's  old  master,  Cormell  Price  : 
The  Review  of  the  Week  on  "  Stalky  "  241 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

SOLDIER  POEMS 

The  hot-bed  of  slang  :  The  irony  and  gaiety  of  the  British  soldier  : 
The  making  of  a  soul  :  Henley  and  the  sword  :  "  The  Five 
Nations  "  :  The  Westminster  Gazette  and  Kipling's  poetry  : 
Poems  of  the  South  African  War  :  "  The  New  Army  in  Train- 
ing "  :  Our  Saxon  ancestors  compared  with  the  British  soldier 
of  our  own  times  249 

CHAPTER  XIX 

KIPLING'S  CULTURED  DELIGHT  IN  ODOUR 

The  soul  of  Sussex  :  The  spirit  of  reverence  and  wonder  :  George 
Borrow  :  The  spirit  of  the  English  country-side  :  Kipling  and  the 
sense  of  smell  :  Kipling's  passion  for  dogs  :  "  Garm — a  Hostage  "    267 

xiii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XX 
THE  CULT  OF  "  MANDALAY  " 

PAGE 

A  noticeable  difference  between  the  soldiers  of  "  Barrack  Room 
Ballads  "  and  those  of  "  The  Five  Nations  "  :  "  Mandalay  "  : 
The  legion  of  lost  ones  :  The  virtue  and  harm  of  strong  drink  : 
John  Collins  and  Dean  Aldrich  sing  in  praise  of  good  wine  :  A 
parody  of  "  Mandalay  "  :  Lord  Brassey's  "  Voyages  and  Travels  "  : 
"  Hathis  a  pilin'  teak  "  :  Literature  and  music-hall  clap-trap  : 
"  Tipperary  "  :  Lafcadio  Hearn's  craving  for  the  East  not  far 
removed  from  the  soldier's  longings  in  "  Mandalay  "  283 

APPENDICES: 

L  List  of  Portraits  and  Cartoons  of  the  Author  299 

n.  Magazine  Articles  dealing  with  Rudyard  Kipling  and 

HIS  Work  304 

111.  Burlesques,  Parodies,  and  Extracts   from  various   Con- 
temporary Sources  316 

INDEX  351 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


RuDYARD  Kipling 

From  a  'painting  by  Cyrus  Cuneo 

Britannia  a  la  Beardsley 

From  a  drawing  by  E.  T .  Reed 

Ready-made  coats  (of  Arms) 
Ajter  E.  T.  Reed 

Kipling's  House  at  Rottingdean 

RuDYARD  Kipling 

From  a  painting  by  The  Hon.  John  Collier 

RuDYARD  Kipling 

From  a  drawing  by  B.  Irvine  Bately 

"  Batemans,"  Rudyard  Kipling's  House  at  Burwash 
From  an  original  etching  by  W .  Monk 

Rudyard  Kipling  recites  The  Chantey  oj  the  Nations 

Seeking  a  Poet  Laureate 
Ajter  Hy.  Mayer 


Frontisfiece 


Facing  page 

6 


45 

58 
69 

173 

234 

322 
324 


INTRODUCTION 

Towards  the  end  of  the  eighties,  Macmillan^s  Magazine 
printed  a  series  of  short  stories,  which  were  signed  by  a 
new  and  somewhat  uncommon  name,  now  familiar 
wherever  the  English  tongue  is  spoken.  The  first  of 
these  was  a  story  with  a  Rabelaisian  tang,  entitled 
"  The  Incarnation  of  Krishna  Mulvaney."  We  have  all 
read  the  side-splitting  pranks  of  Mulvaney,  who  stole  a 
palanquin  into  which  he  was  afterwards  bundled  while 
he  was  in  his  cups,  and  carried  to  Benares  with  the 
Queens  of  India  to  take  part  in  a  great  festival.  This 
story  and  the  famous  ballad  of  "  East  and  West  " 
appeared  in  the  same  number,  and  it  was  obvious  to 
many  people  that  ''  Yussuf  "  (the  signature  over  which 
the  poem  appeared)  and  Rudyard  Kipling,  the  writer  of 
the  adventures  of  Mulvaney,  were  one  and  the  same. 
The  second  tale  was  "  The  Head  of  the  District,"  and 
then  people  began  to  talk.  The  critics  cried  the  new 
writer's  merits  or  faults  from  the  housetops,  the  demands 
for  back  numbers  of  Macmillan^s  Magazine  grew  louder 
and  more  insistent  at  the  bookshops,  and  within  a  few 
months,  all  literary  London  was  buying  up  little  paper- 
covered  books  from  the  London  agents  of  Rudyard 
Kipling's  Indian  publishers.  These  were  what  came  to 
be  known  as  the  Allahabad  Books,  or,  more  correctly, 
the  Indian  Railway  Library  Series,  which  were  printed 
by  A.  H.  Wheeler  &  Co.  of  Allahabad  in  1888. 

For  a  year  or  so  after  this,  Rudyard  Kipling  carried  the 
English  public  by  storm  and  became  the  most  powerful 
factor  in  English  literature.     His  vitality,  welling  up  in 

3 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

an  unbroken  stream  throughout  a  period  of  thirty  years 
or  so,  has  passed  over  into  twenty-five  volumes  of  verse 
and  prose,  each  of  which  is  stamped  with  the  hall-mark 
of  genius. 

At  all  events,  Kipling  has  to-day  a  distinction  all 
his  own,  a  chimney  corner  all  to  himself,  by  virtue  of 
his  possessing  that  personal  charm  of  lettered  bonhomie^ 
which,  when  he  burst  in  upon  the  public,  seemed  lost  to 
literature,  as  it  was  at  that  time  practised.  Kipling 
walked  brusquely  into  the  smug  presence  of  respect- 
ability, and  deftly  pulled  a  handful  of  straw  out  of  the 
dummy ;  but  of  course  that  did  not  constitute  his 
greatness. 

It  was  a  world  largely  composed  of  would-be  literary 
dandies,  and  superior  persons,  into  which  the  young 
writer  entered.  Everywhere  he  found  the  imitation 
"  style,"  the  pose  point  of  view,  the  smart,  cynical, 
sophisticated  attitude.  Besides  these  literary  fops  with 
sweet  fawn-like  eyes,  there  were,  to  be  sure,  a  few  men  of 
sterling  worth,  but  they  were  not  voicing  any  original 
ideas.  That  brilliant  failure,  Oscar  Wilde,  echoed 
Flanbert  and  Huysmans.  Dowson  stumbled  into  the 
tracks  of  Baudelaire.  W.  B.  Yeats  lived  in  a  fairyland  of 
his  own,  and  distilled  the  pure  essence  of  Celtic  folklore. 
The  really  great  men  could  have  been  counted  up  very 
quickly:  sucli  names  as  Meredith,  Morris,  Stevenson, 
Swinburne,  Tennyson,  Hardy,  spring  instantly  to  mind. 
But  the  whole  trouble  with  art  and  literature  at  this 
time  was  that  they  were  anaemic.  They  were  deficient 
in  red-blood  corpuscles.  This  was  true  of  literature  ;  it 
was  true  of  music,  painting,  sculpture,  the  drama — all 
the  arts.  The  whole  trend  of  the  period  was  artificial. 
But  few  will  deny  that  the  period  has  added  some  im- 
portant milestones  to  the  great  road  of  English  art  and 
letters.  It  produced  "  The  Sphinx,"  "  Salome,"  and 
"The  Ballad  of  Reading  Gaol,"  with  the  wonderful 
lines : 

4 


INTRODUCTION 

Tet  each  man  kills  the  thing  he  loves. 
By  each  let  this  be  heard, 
Some  do  it  with  a  hitter  look. 
Some  with  a  flattering  word. 
The  coward  does  it  with  a  kiss. 
The  brave  man  with  a  sword  ! 

It  produced  the  flawless  little  poem  "  The  Land  of 
the  Heart's  Desire,"  by  Yeats,  "  A  Masque  of  Dead 
Florentines,"  by  Maurice  Hewlett,  the  poems  of  Lionel 
Johnson,  the  lyrics  of  Arthur  Symons,  and  Sir  Richard 
Burton's  magnificent  version  of  The  Kasidah,  which 
stands  alone,  "  a  giant  monolith  upreared  beneath  the 
hoary  stars  upon  the  eternal  Plain  of  Ages." 

Do  what  thy  manhood  bids  thee  do,  from  none  but  self  expect  applause  ; 
He  noblest  lives  and  noblest  dies  who  makes  and  keeps  his  self-made  laws. 

All  other  Life  is  living  Death,  a  world  where  none  but  Phantoms  dwell, 
A  breath,  a  wind,  a  sound,  a  voice,  a  tinkling  of  the  camel-bell. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  also  produced  as  one  of  its  most 
typical  artists  Aubrey  Beardsley,  whose  designs  and 
so-called  illustrations  to  "  Salome  "  were  soaked  in  sin 
and  unbridled  suggestiveness.  It  was  this  kind  of  "  art  " 
that  first  prepared  a  way  for  Kipling.  The  thinking 
man  could  UDt  persuade  himself  that  all  was  well  with  an 
age  that  had  such  a  petty  and  pallid  taste  in  art  and 
letters. 

Readers  may  remember  that,  during  the  time  the 
Yellow  Book  was  attracting  much  attention  with  Beards- 
ley's  sinful  women,  and  fat  leering  rakes,  that  breezy 
and  cheerful  old  weekly.  Punchy  was  actively  engaged 
in  making  game  of  the  posturing  of  the  ^Esthetes.  We 
have  all  felt  the  charm  of  Walter  Pater  and  Wilde,  and 
we  have  all  recognized  the  masterful  touch  of  Beardsley, 
but  when  Rudyard  Kipling  replaced  their  pallid  world 
of  garish  limelight  with  the  good  honests  unlight,  it 
was  quite  a  welcome  change.     There  were  moments  in 

S 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

the  reign  of  the  ^Esthetes,  when  it  seemed  as  though  the 
old  genial  English  humour  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  But 
all  the  time  the  editor  and  staff  of  Punch  struggled 
bravely  against  the  swift  tide  of  the  New  Voluptuousness. 
It  is  to  the  credit  of  this  journal,  that  its  general  tone 
remained  unaltered  during  the  period  when  research 
among  the  refuse  of  the  French  Decadents  was  such  a 
popular  vogue.  Punch  proved  that  in  things  dull  and 
nasty  there  is  often  much  laughter,  or,  at  least,  a  smile. 
The  comic  aspect  of  the  Tellow  Book  craze  is  revealed  in 
the  drawing,  "  Britannia  a  la  Beardsley,"  which  appeared 
in  PuncFs  Almanack  for  1895.  But  the  zenith  of  the 
deadly  and  morbid  in  literature  was  reached  when  Oscar 
Wilde  published  his  famous  story,  "  The  Picture  of 
Dorian  Gray."  *  This  book  left  the  reader  with  such 
an  uncomfortable  impression,  that  he  was  compelled  to 
ask  whether  the  book  stood  within  the  pale  of  reasonable 
subject-matter  in  literature.  There  was  a  vein  of 
freakishness  running  through  the  story,  which  rendered 
it  displeasing  to  the  healthy  mind.  There  was  a  dwelling 
on  every  form  of  luxury,  indulgence,  and  abnormal  sin, 
which  seemed  extremely  nauseous.  The  author  insisted 
so  much  on  the  morbid  and  the  bizarre  in  this  child  of 
his  brain,  that  he  totally  neglected  the  finer  spirit. 
*'  The  Picture  of  Dorian  Gray "  first  appeared  on 
June  20,  1890,  in  Lipplncotfs  Monthly  Magazine,  and 
its  publication  created  a  great  sensation.  A  few  months 
afterwards  Lippincott's  offered  a  very  different  fare  to 
its  readers.  In  January  1891  they  published  the  famous 
"  Light  that  Failed  "  number  of  their  magazine.  Thus 
Kipling,  sword  in  hand,  entered  the  tired  and  degenerate 
literary  world ;  resolved  on  forcibly  crushing  his  pallid  and 
anaemic  brothers  with  their  petty  toys  and  grimacing 
symbols,  out  of  which  all  true  life  had  faded.  Kipling 
was  violent,  English  of  the  English,  and  full  of  the  old 
unruly  fires  of  our  Saxon  ancestors  ;  he  was  the  sworn 
*  Published  by  Messrs.  Simpkin,  Marshall  &  Co.  Ltd.    Price  is.  net. 

6 


BRITANNIA  A  LA  BEARDSLEY 
(By  our  ' '  Yellow  "  Decadent) 

Reproduced  by  special  permission  of  the  proprietors  of"'  Punch  " 
From  Drawing  by  E.  T.  Reed 


INTRODUCTION 

enemy  of  the  sentimental.  So  little  in  evidence  is  the 
sentimental  in  ^'  The  Light  that  Failed  "  that  some  of 
the  critics  pronounced  the  story  as  "  brutal."  Certainly 
it  would  be  difficult  to  find  such  a  unique  collection  of 
disagreeable  people  in  one  book.  The  woman  who  looks 
after  Dick  and  Maisie  in  the  opening  chapters  is  a  shrew, 
Maisie  is  a  dull  and  selfish  girl,  and  Dick  Heldar  often 
allows  his  vehemence  to  degenerate  into  violence.  Even 
Maisie  remarked  with  a  shudder,  that  Heldar's  work 
seemed  to  "  smell  of  tobacco  and  blood."  But  the 
point  we  are  concerned  with  here  is  Kipling's  entry 
into  the  literary  world,  so  we  must  revert  to  the  charge 
of  brutality  presently. 

Above   all,    Kipling   wrote   with   an   almost   physical 

exuberance  of  strength  about  the  big  things  of  life.     His 

graphic  power  enabled  us  to  realize  the  life  led  by  real 

men,    from   a   book.     His    pages   were   filled   with   the 

language  used  by  soldiers.  New  England  fishermen,  men 

of    the    navy,    gentlemen    rovers,    Canadian    troopers, 

Australians,  and  all  the  members  of  that  vast  *'  legion  " 

that    never    was    "  listed."     The    picturesque    oaths    of 

Tommy  Atkins  starred  his  early  poetry,  and  they  looked 

very  alluring  in  the  cold  and  matter-of-fact  printed  page. 

Such  matter  caught  the  eye  of  the  men  of  the  workshop 

and  factory,  and  it  was  not  unpleasing  to  the  ears  of 

these  men  to  be  told  that  they  were  the  Chosen  people 

of  the  Lord.     It  was  a  new  thing  to  hear  a  poet  hymning 

a  cab-driver,  or  an    illiterate    pioneer.     Thus    Kipling 

marks  in  a  measure,  the  beginning  of  a  new  era,  since 

his    success    in    introducing    the    private    soldier,    with 

his    simple    philosophy    and    complex    personality,    did 

much  to  broaden  the  popular  taste,  and  made  people 

bolder,   and    more    independent   in   their  literary  likes 

and  dislikes.     The  age  needed  such  a  man.     So  sweeping 

was   Kipling's  triumph,  that  even  among  those  people 

who  professed    nothing   but    contempt    for   everything 

but   the   most  abstruse  in  verse,  it  was  permitted   to 

7 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

fearlessly  extol   the  ringing   doggerel   of   the    Bard   of 
Empire. 

Kipling  possesses  the  Rabelaisian  spirit,  and  this  has 
also  helped  to  give  him  his  vogue.  In  every  age  when 
art  has  a  strong  accent,  when  it  displays  vigour,  inventive 
power,  originality,  you  can  trace  part  of  it  back  to  the 
Rabelaisian  spirit. 

The  world  has  always  been  ready  to  welcome  the 
strong  man.  It  will  even  welcome  a  poor  poet  of  the 
barrack-room  or  lower-deck,  if  he  has  a  lusty  air,  or  to 
use  a  gruff  Saxon  phrase,  if  he  has  ''  guts."  The  only 
real  aristocracy  is  the  aristocracy  of  character.  Kipling 
possessed  a  lusty  air,  a  cocksureness,  and  certain  traces  of 
brutality — the  echo  of  the  Berserker  rage,  in  fact — 
which  with  his  genius  quickly  gathered  about  him  a 
world-wide  public. 

And  here  one  must  refer  to  a  dominant  figure  in  the 
world  of  literature  who  encouraged  and  inspired  Kipling. 
This  was  William  Ernest  Henley,  editor  of  the  Scots 
Observer,  which  afterwards  became  the  National  Observer, 
and  migrated  to  London.  Henley  has  deserved  well  of 
his  country — firstly  by  his  poems,  and  secondly  because 
he  was  broad-minded  enough  to  be  able  to  appreciate 
work  so  widely  separate  as  that  offered  by  Meredith, 
Hardy,  and  Kipling.  To  glance  down  a  list  of  those 
whom  he  welcomed  to  the  pages  of  his  paper,  is  almost  to 
reckon  up  a  group  of  the  most  famous  writers  of  his 
time.  Stevenson  printed  his  fine  and  fiery  outburst  in 
defence  of  Father  Damien  in  these  columns.  When 
Harfer'^s  objected  to  a  certain  part  of  "  Tess  of  the 
D'Urbervilles,"  it  appeared  in  the  National  Observer. 
This  was  the  scene  in  which  Tess  and  Alec  ride  together 
at  night. 

When  Kipling,  failing  to  find  an  appreciative  editor 
for  his  soldier  poems,  sent  Henley  "  Danny  Deever," 
some  verses  descriptive  of  the  degradation  and  hanging 
of  a  British  Tommy,  he  received  word  back  that  the 
8 


INTRODUCTION 

editor  would  take  as  much  of  ''  that  sort  of  stuff  "  as  he 
could  get.  I  think  I  am  not  far  out  in  saying  that  few 
papers  at  that  time  would  have  looked  twice  at  the 
''  Barrack  Room  Ballads."  However,  they  all  appeared 
in  Henley's  paper,  also  ''  The  Flag  of  England,"  that 
fine  piece  of  invective,  "  Cleared,"  on  the  finding  of  the 
Parnell  Commission  ;  also  a  singular  poem,  "  The  Blind 
Bug,"  which  Kipling  later  touched  up  and  used  as 
memorial  verses  in  the  honour  of  Mr.  Wolcott  Balestier. 

Henley  distributed  eulogy  or  abuse  liberally,  and  from 
the  first  he  laughed  at  and  attacked  in  turn  the  strained 
and  fantastic  work  of  Wilde  and  the  Esthetes.  He 
wrote  a  scathing  editorial  review  on  "  The  Ballad  of 
Reading  Gaol,"  in  the  Outlook,  on  March  5,  1898,  which 
I  think  was  his  last  attack  on  Wilde.  This  attack  was 
perhaps  rather  petty  ;  it  seemed  too  much  like  hitting 
a  man  when  he  was  down.  Writing  to  Leonard  Smithers, 
regarding  this  review,  Wilde  said :  "  I  don't  think  I 
should  answer  Henley.  I  think  it  would  be  quite  vulgar. 
What  does  it  matter  ?  He  made  his  scrofula  into 
vers  libres,  and  is  furious  because  I  have  made  a  sonnet 
out  of  '  skilly.'  He  is  simply  jealous."  This  sorrowful 
effort  at  humour  strikes  a  note  distinctly  different  from 
the  delightful  and  witty  humour  of  "  The  Importance 
of  Being  Earnest." 

Towards  the  end  of  his  career  Wilde  saw  that  the 
aesthetic  movement  was  as  cold  and  dead  as  those  black 
granite  sphinxes  at  the  Louvre,  which  had  cast  spells 
over  him  in  his  youth.  He  knew  that  the  public  would 
not  tolerate  another  "  Dorian  Gray,"  and  we  may  well 
assume  that  in  his  last  poem  he  was  greatly  influenced 
by  the  style  of  Kipling.  "  The  Ballad  of  Reading  Gaol  " 
is  an  entirely  different  piece  of  work  from  any  he  had 
produced  previously.  The  whole  spirit  of  this  ballad  lies 
in  its  crude  realism,  and  Kiplingesque  robustness. 

The  bookworm,  on  reading  Kipling's  letters  to  the 
Pioneer  on  Japan  (afterwards  published  in  "  From  Sea  to 

9 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

Sea  "),  will  note  the  influence  of  Lafcadio  Hearn.  Yet  in 
spite  of  small  borrowings  here  and  there,  how  inviolate 
Kipling  keeps  his  own  characteristics  and  power  ! 
Another  influence  on  his  prose,  and  one  for  which  we 
have  his  own  word,  is  that  of  his  literary  brother,  Loti. 
It  must  have  been  rather  the  stimulus  of  contrast  than 
that  of  similarity  that  he  found  here. 

Kipling's  literary  judgments  are  as  capricious  and 
biased  as  his  political  views.  A  mental  gipsy,  he  has 
tarried  in  many  and  various  camping  grounds.  But  he 
has  never  tarried  over  long,  and  when  the  fancy  has 
prompted  him  he  has  moved  on  never  to  return  again. 
Browning,  Swinburne,  Hearn,  Rossetti,  Lindsay  Gordon, 
and  many  older  writers  abode  with  him  for  a  season. 
Then  there  is  the  greatest  influence  of  all — the  Bible  ; 
but  plagiarism  in  that  quarter  is  a  virtue. 

On  the  whole  it  must  be  admitted  that  Kipling  has 
moved  more  people  throughout  the  Empire  than  any 
other  living  poet.  I  think  he  is  more  himself  in  verse 
than  in  prose  ;  his  touch  seems  surer,  and  his  style  is  at 
its  best  and  has  greater  individuality  and  dignity.  When 
you  have  cast  aside  from  his  verse  all  jingoism  and  thin 
thoughts — and  it  is  difficult  to  do  this,  for  all  his  ideas 
are  clothed  in  gorgeous  language — a  vivid  sense  of  power 
and  rare  imaginative  qualities  remain.  We  expect  people 
to  disagree  over  his  extreme  Tory  views,  but  leaving  all 
political  opinion  out  of  the  question,  most  people  will  be 
ready  to  admit  that  Rudyard  Kipling  can  write  poetry 
when  he  likes.  Of  course  arguments  as  to  whether 
certain  lines  are  true  poetry  or  not,  generally  end  in  a 
literary  brawl.  Wordsworth  could  find  no  higher  praise 
for  a  Keats  poem  than  to  call  it  "  a  pretty  piece  of 
barbarism."  And  all  poets  from  Homer  to  Horace,  from 
Catullus  to  Omar,  from  Shakespeare  to  Byron,  from 
Burns  to  Poe,  have  been  equally  complimentary  about 
each  other.  Poe's  verse  was  challenged,  and  his  creden- 
tials were  grudgingly  inspected  by  those  who  represented 

10 


INTRODUCTION 

the  finest  culture  of  his  own  country.  Everything  new 
is  regarded  with  suspicion  and  dislike  by  the  public,  and 
often  by  the  leading  critics  as  well.  Wordsworth  and 
Coleridge  were  derided.  Shelley,  believed  in  by  Byron 
and  Peacock,  was  regarded  as  a  pariah  of  literature. 
Keats  staggered  and  reeled  under  the  whips  of  the 
Scotch  reviewers,  but  he  made  his  answer.  That  answer 
is  ''  St  Agnes'  Eve."  Rossetti  and  Morris  were  attacked 
from  all  sides.  Such  are  the  caprices  of  fate  in  the  lives 
of  many  of  the  ''  accursed  race  of  poets  !  " 

Kipling,  however,  from  the  first  enjoyed  an  Empire- 
wide  recognition,  which  flowed  in  with  such  force  that 
it  swept  before  it  all  the  barriers  of  hostile  criticism. 
The  critic  who  had  climbed  to  the  housetop  to  heap 
coals  of  fire  on  the  ''  Indian  Drummer's  "  head,  found 
himself  without  an  audience,  and  had  to  gracefully 
slide  down  the  waterspout.  It  was  whispered  about  the 
market-place  that  Kipling  was  receiving  large  sums  of 
money  for  his  verse.  That  a  poet  should  expect  to 
make  a  living  by  writing  poetry  was  a  comic  notion. 
People  refused  to  believe  that  such  a  miracle  could  be 
performed  in  these  matter-of-fact  times.  It  had  been 
looked  upon  as  a  dreadful  trade — like  looking  for  English 
gold  in  London  gutters.  That  the  people  know  exactly 
what  they  want,  and  that  they  do  not  want  verse  (save 
in  exceptional  cases),  is  one  of  the  everyday  texts  of  the 
publishing  world.  In  fact,  Mr.  T.  W.  H.  Crosland's 
famous  parody  of  Kipling's  "  Tommy  "  sums  up  with 
delightful  humour  the  attitude  of  the  publisher  to  the 
poet : 

/  went  into  a  publisher's  as  woeful  as  a  hearse. 

The  publisher  he  ups  and  says,  "  fVhy  will  you  chaps  write  verse  P  " 

The  girl  behind  the  Remington  she  tittered  fit  to  die. 

I  outs  into  the  street  again  and  to  myself  says  I : 

"  O  ifs  verses  this,  and  verses  that,  and  writing  'em  is  wrong  ; 
But  it's  '  special  type  and  vellum  '  when  you  hit  on  something  strong, 

II 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

Tou  hit  on  something  strongs  my  hoys,  you  hit  on  something  strong, 
O  it's  '  signed  large  paper  copies,''  when  you  hit  on  something  strong. 


"  We  ain't  no  ^eavenly  Miltons,  nor  we  ain!t  no  idiots  too. 
But  plodding  men  with  Jam' lies,  and  a  pile  to  make,  like  you  ; 
And  all  the  time  you  see  us  down-at-heel  and  looking  weak. 
We're  a-casting  oj  our  bread  iipon  the  waters,  so  to  speak  : 

"  For  it's  verses  this,  and  verses  that,  and  things  run  pretty  rough. 
But  there's  Albert  Gate  in  verses  if  you  only  write  the  stuff, 
If  you  only  write  the  stuff,  my  boys,  if  you  only  write  the  stuff, 
O  it's  yachts  and  rows  of  houses  if  you  only  write  the  stuff." 

Yes,  certainly  Kipling  had  "  hit  on  something  strong," 
and  his  rise  to  the  heights  of  popularity  was  as  sudden 
as  that  of  Byron.  The  "  boom  "  which  followed  can 
only  be  compared  in  its  area,  length  of  duration,  and 
significance  to  that  of  a  famous  forerunner,  Charles 
Dickens. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  Kipling  wrought  a  change 
in  the  literary  spirit  of  the  age.  In  one  of  his  later 
novels,  "  The  Whirlpool,"  the  late  George  Gissing  said 
of  the  new  school : 

It's  the  voice  of  the  reaction.  Millions  of  men,  natural  men,  revolting 
against  the  softness  and  sweetness  of  civilization — men  all  over  the  world, 
hardly  knowing  what  they  want,  and  what  they  don't  want. 

But  Gissing  was  wrong  when  he  remarked  that  they 
did  not  know  what  they  wanted — they  knew,  but  it  was 
something  with  which  this  writer  had  little  sympathy. 
The  revolt  against  the  aesthetic  movement  was  not  a 
revolt  against  "  the  softness  and  sweetness  of  civiliza- 
tion." It  was  a  blow  at  the  sickly  fancies  of  those  artists 
and  writers  who  drank  absinthe  in  the  Cheshire  Cheese, 
and  strove  to  shock  a  sturdy  public  with  the  Tellow  Book 
and  ^he  Savoy,  They  revolted  less  against  the  mild 
and  gentle  life  than  against  the  unwholesome  and 
effeminate  life.     The  sound  ideas  underlying  the  revolt 

12 


INTRODUCTION 

are  set  out  by  Rudyard  Kipling  in  "  The  Light  that 
Failed,"  and  wrought  into  the  fabric  of  his  great  romance 
"  Kim  " — which  is  a  story,  realistic  in  form  and  yet 
romantic  in  spirit.  There  are  brief  and  exquisite  prose 
sketches  in  "  Kim  "  which  remind  the  reader,  strangely 
enough,  of  Oscar  Wilde.  A  healthier  Wilde,  with  a 
broader  vision  and  an  outlook  more  clearly  English,  might 
have  written  a  great  Indian  romance  like  "  Kim."  But 
reserve  is  necessary  to  great  artistic  expression,  and  this 
Wilde  lacked.  It  is  reserve  that  wins,  not  bombast  ; 
for  soul  is  greater  than  sound.  That  is  why  the  spiritual 
quietude  of  "  Kim  "  will  outlive  the  brazen  "  go  "  and 
lively  colour  of  the  greater  part  of  Kipling's  work. 
Many  of  his  tales  are  too  snappish,  too  knowing,  and  too 
violent  to  afford  any  lasting  pleasure  to  the  human  soul. 
The  victories  of  violence  are  transient. 

Kipling  is  certainly  one  of  the  least  monotonous  of 
writers.  He  is  ever  experimenting  in  new  styles  and 
subjects  ;  and,  in  addition  to  winning  a  high  place  in 
the  literature  of  the  half-exotic  Indian  romance,  he  has 
obtained  an  incontestable  pre-eminence  as  a  short  story- 
teller and  expert  in  modern  life  on  land  and  sea.  As  I 
have  noted  before,  a  similar  subtlety  of  method  and  a 
certain  delicacy  of  touch,  not  wholly  unlike  the  poetic 
style  of  Lafcadio  Hearn,  mark  his  best  work.  In  other 
respects  he  recalls  Pierre  Loti  to  our  minds. 

Both  Kipling  and  Lafcadio  Hearn  are  keen  observers, 
distinguished  from  the  minor  novelists  of  the  same 
group  by  the  abundance  and  vividness  of  picturesque 
detail  with  which  they  describe  strange  people  and  lands. 
But  how  different  are  the  characters  in  Hearn's  tales 
when  compared  to  those  of  Kipling  !  The  two  v^iters 
exhibit  equal  imaginative  power  in  revealing  the  glamour 
of  the  East  in  its  opposite  aspects.  Kipling  employs 
realistic  means  in  poetic  effects  when  describing  the 
pageantry  of  Oriental  life.  But  Hearn  uses  rhythmic 
phrases  and  ornate  diction  even  in  dramatic  situations, 

13 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

and  he  discovers  many  of  the  spiritual  forces  of  Eastern 
life  which  Kipling  has  missed.  For  Hearn,  art  was  the 
soul  of  all  things ;  in  fact  he  was  suffering  from  a  certain 
mental  hysteria  which  craved  perfection  in  art.  We 
are  told  that  he  devoted  all  his  days  and  years  to  the 
pursuit  of  the  beautiful,  and  he  quoted  Kipling  to 
accentuate  this  point : 

One  minute'* s  work  to  thee  denied 
Stands  all  Eternit'fs  ofence — 

According  to  Hearn  nothing  was  less  important  than 
worldly  success,  to  work  for  pelf  was  nefarious,  and 
Fame  was  a  will-o'-the-wisp  that  led  one  on  to  ruin  and 
corruption.  He  accepted  as  a  fact  that  when  a  man 
owns  more  money  than  he  can  use,  it  owns  him. 

Kipling  and  Hearn,  however,  did  not  exhaust  the 
fairyland  of  Oriental  mysticism,  and  the  field  has  been 
again  opened  up  by  two  other  writers  with  more  intimate 
and  varied  knowledge  of  India.  The  first  is  F.  W.  Bain, 
professor  of  political  economy  at  Poona,  who  has  intro- 
duced us  to  the  Sancho  Panza  of  the  Hindoo  drama  in 
"  A  Digit  of  the  Moon,"  and  the  other  is  Rabindranath 
Tagore,  the  famous  Indian  poet.  There  must  be  in 
truth  some  influence  of  enchantment  in  the  atmosphere 
of  India.  How  else  can  one  explain  how  Mr.  Bain  has 
been  carried  away  from  the  cheerless  land  of  cold  science 
to  the  abode  of  the  fairy.  So  I  say  to  Mr.  Bain,  in  the 
phrase  of  one  of  the  kings  of  literature,  ''  What  are  you 
doing  in  that  galley  ?  "  Your  place  is  not  with  those 
gloomy  people  who  fret  and  fume  over  the  laws  of  mere 
pelf.  It  was  not  from  them  you  drew  the  inspiration 
that  enabled  you  to  write  the  Indian  version  of  "  As  You 
Like  It  " — that  charming  and  dramatic  romance  "  A 
Heifer  of  the  Dawn."  Yes,  I  repeat  with  Moliere, 
"  What  are  you  doing  in  that  galley  ?  " 

Readers  of  Tagore  will  recognize  in  his  poems  the 
influence  of  Kabir,  the  poet  and  mystic  of  the  fifteenth 

H 


INTRODUCTION 

century,  who  is  mentioned  in  some  beautiful  verses — 
"  The  Song  of  Kabir  "—in  "  The  Second  Jungle  Book." 
But  Tagore  is  not  an  imitator,  for  he  has  made  a  new 
trackway  in  the  fields  of  Indian  literature  ;  however,  as 
Kabir  was  the  disciple  of  Ramananda,  so  is  Tagore  the 
disciple  of  Kabir.  Both  see  the  world  through  God, 
both  see  God  through  the  world  ;  both  believe  that 
their  God  is  the  hot  Indian  air  in  their  nostrils,  and  the 
good  earth  underfoot.  Every  idea  that  Tagore  has 
expressed,  is  an  ardent  plea  to  his  people  to  return  to 
*'  the  mystical  religion  of  love  "  which  makes  its  appear- 
ance in  all  races  of  mankind  at  certain  periods  of  spiritual 
discipline.  It  should  be  pointed  out  that  this  "  religion 
of  love  "  is  far  removed  from  that  doctrine  of  love  which 
we  of  the  twentieth  century  claim  for  ourselves.  It  is 
such  a  strong  and  deep  identification  of  the  man  with 
God,  and  vivid  apprehension  of  God  in  all  the  works  of 
nature,  that  it  would  offend  the  moral  sense  of  Western 
people.  Like  much  of  the  work  of  Richard  JefferieS  it 
would  be  looked  upon  as  very  *'  pagan."  To  few  people 
and  but  seldom  is  it  given  to  feel  so  utterly  alone  with 
God  and  nature  as  it  has  been  given  to  Rabindranath 
Tagore.  In  a  wonderful  poem — a  translation  of  Kabir 
— ^Tagore  tells  of  the  pantheism  of  the  hills  and  the  sea. 
It  might  almost  pass  for  a  song  of  human  love : 

The  shadows  of  evening  fall  thick  and  deep,  and  the  darkness  of  love  envelops 

the  body  and  the  mind. 
Open  the  window  to  the  west,  and  be  lost  in  the  sky  of  love  ; 
Drink  the  sweet  honey  that  steeps  the  petals  of  the  lotus  of  the  heart. 
Receive  the  waves  in  your  body  :   what  splendour  is  in  the  region  of  the  sea  / 
Hark  !  the  sounds  of  conches  and  bells  are  rising. 
Kabir  says  :   *'  O  brother,  behold  I  the  Lord  is  in  this  vessel  of  my  body  !  " 

Not  one  of  the  least  obligations  the  world  of  English 
letters  owes  to  India  is  Tagore's  versions  of  the  "  Songs 
of  Kabir  "  with  all  their  fire  and  sonorous  music.  I  do 
not  hesitate  to  affirm  that  Tagore  has  reached  a  certain 
impassioned  splendour  of  lyrical  genius  to  which  Rudyard 

IS 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Kipling  can  never  hope  to  reach.  In  "  Kim,"  and 
certain  of  his  poems,  Kipling  sees  all  India  somewhat 
superficially,  in  black  and  white.  His  vision  is  physically- 
wonderful,  spiritually  hasty  and  arrogant.  He  blows  upon 
one  instrument.  But  when  we  come  to  the  poems  and 
plays  of  Tagore,  we  find  a  poet  who  conducts  a  wonderful 
orchestra  and  deals  with  the  adventures  of  the  soul — 
sometimes  the  artless  adventure  in  which  the  soul  is  a 
child  playing  with  the  sand,  and  sometimes  in  the  last 
and  greatest  quest  in  which  the  soul  searches  after  the 
Spirit  of  Truth. 


i6 


CHAPTER  I 
BIOGRAPHICAL 

John  LDckwood  Kipling  :  Kipling,  Champion  diver  :  Rudyard 
Lake  in  Staffordshire  :  Kipling's  editor  at  Lahore  :  Robert  Barr, 
Kipling,  and  the  Idler  :  A  cover  design  for  the  Idler  :  Bloemfontein 
and  the  Friend. 


Whoever  lives  true  life  will  love  true  love, 
I  learnt  to  love  that  England. 
Hills,  vales,  woods,  netted  in  a  silver  mist. 
Farms,  granges,  doubled  up  among  the  hills  ; 
And  cattle  grazing  in  the  watered  vales. 
And  cottage-chimneys  smoking  from  the  woods. 
And  cottage-gardens  smelling  everywhere. 
Confused  with  smell  of  orchards.     "  See,^^  I  said, 
"  And  see  !  is  God  not  with  us  on  the  earth  ? 
And  shall  we  put  Him  down  by  aught  we  do  ? 
Who  says  there*  s  nothing  for  the  poor  and  vile 
Save  poverty  and  wickedness  ?  behold  !  " 
And  ankle-deep  in  English  grass  I  leaped 
And  clapped  my  hands,  and  called  all  very  fair. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 

From  Aurora  Leigh  (Book  I). 


CHAPTER  I 

BIOGRAPHICAL 

Before  entering  upon  this  slight  study,  I  think  it 
necessary  to  recall  certain  biographical  stages  that  are 
indispensable  to  a  clear  survey  of  Kipling's  literary 
development.  Born  at  Bombay  on  December  30,  1865, 
of  English  parents,  he  spent  the  first  few  years  of  his  life 
in  that  city,  and  this  earliest  environment  must  have 
stamped  itself  on  the  supersensitive  child  for  life.  The 
multitudinous,  many-coloured  East,  filled  his  soul  with  a 
wonder  that  is  still  stirring  mightily  within  the  man  of  fifty. 

In  connexion  with  his  strongly  Oriental  leanings,  it  is 
interesting  to  note  that  his  father,  John  Lockwood 
Kipling,  CLE.,  was  a  great  authority  on  the  mythological 
sculpture  of  the  temples  of  the  Central  provinces  of 
India,  and  the  author  of  a  powerful  and  lucid  work  on 
Indian  animal  life,  "  Beast  and  Man  in  India  "  (Mac- 
millan  and  Co.,  1891).  Attention  also  must  be  called 
to  a  book  of  "  Verses  by  a  Mother  and  Daughter  " 
(Elkin  Mathews,  1902),  which  was  written  by  Kipling's 
mother  and  sister. 

John  Lockwood  Kipling,  one  of  the  pioneers  of  art 
education  under  Government  auspices  in  India,  died  in 
191 1,  aged  seventy-four.  He  was  the  eldest  son  of  the 
Reverend  Joseph  Kipling  of  the  Wesleyan  ministry  ;  and 
in  1865  he  married  Alice,  daughter  of  the  distinguished 
Wesleyan  preacher — the  late  Rev.  George  B.  Macdonald. 
He  was  appointed  architectural  sculptor  at  the  Bombay 
School  of  Art  in  the  year  of  his  marriage,  and  also  acted 
as  the  Bombay  correspondent  of  the  Pioneer  of  Allahabad. 

19 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Upon  the  creation  of  the  Mayo  School  of  Art  at  Lahore 
in  1875,  he  was  appointed  Principal  and  Curator  of  the 
Central  Museum,  and  filled  both  posts  with  singular 
success.  He  was  created  a  CLE.  in  1886,  and  retired 
from  the  service  in  1893. 

According  to  the  testimony  of  Mr.  Holker,  a  Lancashire 
cotton  weaver,  who  had  mills  at  Dharwal,  near  Lahore, 
Kipling's  father  was  a  very  great  Oriental  scholar.  When 
he  visited  the  Kiplings  at  Lahore,  he  was  much  impressed 
by  the  wonderful  collection  of  curios  and  artistic  wonders 
with  which  every  room  simply  teemed.  He  wrote : 
"  The  Kipling  family  were  delightful  people,  all  clever 
and  artistic  in  their  tastes,  and  the  kindest  and  most 
gracious  family  I  have  ever  known." 

Three  different  nationalities  have  gone  to  make  up 
Rudyard  Kipling's  complicated  nature.  On  the  mother's 
side,  Scotland  and  Ireland  ;  on  the  father's,  England  ; 
though  four  hundred  years  back  the  Kiplings  came  from 
Holland.  As  a  child  he  learnt  to  speak  Hindustani,  and 
his  immersion  in  the  myths  and  creeds  of  a  strange 
people  accounted  for  his  unquenchable  love  of  the 
"  ghostly  style,"  combined  with  an  almost  equal  love  of 
the  "  horrible  "  in  literature. 

In  1 871  Kipling,  with  a  younger  sister,  was  in  England 
under  the  care  of  an  elderly  relative  in  Southsea.  During 
his  stay  at  Southsea  he  is  generally  believed  to  have 
tasted  of  much  bitterness,  and  it  seems  likely  that  he 
was  not  unmindful  of  his  own  case  when  he  wrote  the 
opening  chapters  of  "  The  Light  that  Failed,"  in  which 
two  Anglo-Indian  children  are  more  or  less  oppressed  in 
spirit  by  the  repressive  creed  of  a  Puritanical  woman 
who  is  looking  after  them. 

A  few  years  later,  after  a  visit  to  Paris  with  his  father, 
he  was  entered  at  the  United  Service  College  at  Westward 
Ho,  North  Devon  (1878).  In  "  Stalky  and  Co."  he  has 
presented  a  lively  and  minute  sketch  of  the  vigorous  life 
he  spent  at  the  College  (i 878-1 882). 
20 


BIOGRAPHICAL 

To  T.P.^s  Weekly  we  owe  the  following  story  of  his 
schooldays : 

Lovers  of  *'  Stalky  and  Co."  will  remember  the  description  of  the  school 
at  Westward  Ho,  with  its  background  of  *'  rabbit  woods  "  and  glorious 
vista  of  seascape.  It  was  the  writer's  fortune  recently  to  spend  a  delightful 
fortnight  at  Bideford,  some  three  miles  distant  from  the  school,  and  in 
many  a  walk  to  travel  over  the  scenes  immortalized  in  that  book.  A 
favouring  planet  brought  me  into  conversation  with  an  old  rural  postman, 
now  pensioned  off.  Questioned  as  to  the  Westward  Ho  school,  he  was  at 
once  agog  with  memories.  Yes,  many  a  time  had  he  met  the  boys  coming 
along  the  cliff-walk  from  Appledore  on  their  way  to  the  renowned  tuck 
shop  on  "  Bidevoor  promenade,"  and  he  had  enjoyed,  and  suffered  from, 
many  of  their  pranks,  with  a  description  of  which  he  favoured  his  listener. 
When  a  suitable  occasion  offered,  I  questioned  him  more  definitely  about 
Kipling,  and  at  once  he  gave  me  an  account  of  an  incident  so  entirely  in 
keeping  with  one's  idea  of  the  author  that  it  was  impossible  to  doubt  it 
for  a  minute.  .  It  appears  that  Beckwith,  the  aquatic  expert,  came  to 
Westward  Ho  to  give  an  exhibition  from  the  pier,  which  was  crowded  with 
the  usual  summer  sightseers  and  a  fair  sprinkling  of  boys  from  the  school. 
After  some  evolutions  in  the  water  the  swimmer  commenced  a  series  of 
diving  performances,  and  it  was  after  a  sensational  dive  from  the  top  of 
the  pier  that  the  spectators  were  amazed  to  see  a  chubby,  "  stocky  "  boy 
run  to  the  edge  of  the  pier  and  repeat  the  dive  with  all  the  mannerisms  of 
the  expert.  Inquiry  elicited  the  fact  that  the  boy  was  named  Kipling, 
and  it  is  by  this  incident  more  than  any  other  that  the  Bideford  people 
remember  the  now  famous  author.  It  may  interest  many  people  to  know 
that  the  school  buildings  still  stand  as  before,  although  they  are  now  used 
as  a  hotel  and  boarding-house.  One  hopes,  however,  that  all  traces  of 
the  dead  cat  placed  under  the  floor  of  the  superciliously  refined  dormitory 
have  been  expunged. 

An  interesting  observation  that  Rudyard  Kipling 
derived  his  first  name  from  Rudyard  Lake,  not  far  from 
Stoke,  in  Staffordshire,  has  been  spread  broadcast  in 
English  and  American  papers.  And  in  a  sketch  of 
Kipling's  life,  written  by  Professor  Charles  Eliot  Norton 
and  published  in  the  Windsor  Magazine  for  December 
1899,  it  is  stated  that  Kipling's  parents  "  named  their 
firstborn  child  after  the  pretty  lake  on  the  borders  of 
which  their  acquaintance  had  begun."     This  biographical 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

sketch  was  written  for  a  popular  American  edition  of 
Kipling's  works,  and  it  is  rather  curious  that  this  state- 
ment should  be  allowed  by  Kipling  in  this  case  to  stand, 
and  yet  be  categorically  denied  by  him  a  few  years  later. 

Kipling's  disclaimer  came  as  a  surprise,  the  original 
story  being  so  circumstantial.  But  in  a  letter  to  a 
provincial  journal  he  stated  that  it  was  all  a  beautiful 
dream  and  not  a  "  pretty  whim  "  of  his  aunt.  Lady 
Burne-Jones,  who,  when  her  sister,  Mrs.  Lockwood 
Kipling,  wrote  from  India  announcing  the  birth  of  a 
son,  asked  that  he  might  be  called  Rudyard.  This 
repudiation  of  the  story  by  the  famous  author  was  a 
heavy  blow  to  a  society  which  proposed  to  develop  the 
lake  as  a  holiday  resort  for  Kipling  pilgrims.  Once  again 
one  is  constrained  to  ask,  "  How  do  these  pretty  legends 
gain  such  prominence  in  the  papers  ?  " 

At  the  age  of  seventeen  Kipling  returned  to  India, 
and  through  the  influence  of  his  father  took  up  a  post 
on  the  staff  of  the  Lahore  Civil  and  Military  Gazette, 
When  he  was  in  his  twenty-second  year  he  became 
assistant  editor  of  the  Pioneer  at  Allahabad,  and  remained 
in  this  post  from  1887  to  1889.  Thus  it  will  be  noticed 
that  many  of  his  best  short  stories  were  written  when  he 
was  in  his  teens,  and  certain  characters  in  them  have 
since  become  world  famous,  notably  Mulvaney,  Ortheris, 
and  Learoyd. 

The  King's  Dragoon  Guards  and  many  other  famous 
regiments  then  quartered  at  Rawal  Pindi  must  have 
passed  the  headquarters  of  the  Civil  and  Military  Gazette 
on  their  way  to  the  Delhi  manoeuvres  of  1885,  and  no 
doubt  young  Kipling,  with  his  perpetual  interest  in  the 
spectacle  of  life,  seized  upon  many  ideas  for  stories  and 
poems  from  these  surroundings.  His  clear  vision,  and 
the  energy  massed  in  a  torrent  sweeping  all  before  it,  is 
manifested  in  "  Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills,"  published 
in  Calcutta,  1888.  Of  these  forty  short  stories,  twenty- 
eight  made  their  first  appearance  in  the  Civil  and  Military 


BIOGRAPHICAL 

Gazette,     As  early  as  1886  his  name  was  well  known  in 
India. 

Mr.  E.  K.  Robinson,  who  was  formerly  Kipling's 
editor  at  Lahore,  contributed  to  McClure^s  Magazine 
(July  1896)  an  interesting  paper  giving  his  reminiscences 
of  his  famous  assistant.  The  friendship  dated  back  for 
ten  years,  and  when  he  first  met  Kipling  he  was  not 
particularly  impressed  by  his  appearance,  but  he  draws 
attention  to  the  fact  that  he  was  even  then  a  brilliant 
conversationalist.  Mr.  Robinson  says  that  he  conversed 
in  a  somewhat  jerky  manner,  and  his  movements  were 
rather  sudden  and  eccentric  ;  this,  added  to  a  stoop 
acquired  through  much  bending  over  the  office  desk,  did 
not  give  one  a  very  favourable  impression.  But  those 
who  worked  with  him  had  noticed  his  sterling  traits, 
and  were  impressed  by  a  light  which  flashed  behind  the 
spectacles.  It  was  a  light  that  was  suggestive  of  a  good 
deal  of  power  and  sterling  character.  He  was  an  untiring 
worker,  and  slaved  industriously  at  the  drudgery  of  the 
newspaper  work  without  protest. 

There  was  one  peculiarity  of  Kipling's  work  which  I  really  must  mention, 
namely,  the  amount  of  ink  he  used  to  throw  about.  In  the  heat  of  summer, 
white  cotton  trousers  and  a  thin  vest  constituted  his  office  attire,  and  by 
the  day's  end  he  was  spotted  all  over  like  a  Dalmatian  dog.  He  had  a 
habit  of  dipping  his  pen  frequently  and  deep  into  the  inkpot,  and  as  all 
his  movements  were  abrupt,  almost  jerky,  the  ink  used  to  fly.  When  he 
darted  into  my  room,  as  he  used  to  do  about  one  thing  or  another  in  con- 
nexion with  the  contents  of  the  paper  a  dozen  times  in  the  morning,  I 
had  to  shout  to  him  to  "  stand  off  "  ;  otherwise,  as  I  knew  by  experience, 
the  abrupt  halt  he  would  make  and  the  flourish  with  which  he  placed  the 
proof  in  his  hand  before  me,  would  send  the  penful  of  ink — he  always  had 
a.  full  pen  in  his  hand — flying  over  me.  Driving,  or  sometimes  walking, 
home  to  breakfast  in  his  light  attire  plentifully  besprinkled  with  ink,  his 
spectacled  face  peeping  out  under  an  enormous  mushroom-shaped  pith  hat, 
Kipling  was  a  quaint-looking  object. 

In  1889  Kipling  was  sent  to  England  by  the  Pioneer, 
to  which  he  promised  to  contribute  his  impressions  of 
travel.     He   touched   Japan,  San   Francisco,  and  New 

23 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

York  on  his  way  to  the  mother-country,  and  his  experi- 
ence may  be  read  in  "  Letters  of  Marque  "  and  "  From 
Sea  to  Sea."  In  the  autumn  of  this  your  we  find  him 
established  in  London,  where  he  pubhshed  ''  Barrack 
Room  Ballads  "  a  year  or  so  later,  of  which  the  Times 
remarked  :    "  Unmistakable  genius  rings  in  every  line." 

Robert  Barr,  writing  in  the  Idler  for  May  1909,  gives 
a  sidelight  on  Rudyard  Kipling,  the  young  journalist, 
fighting  for  position  in  the  London  crowd. 

Kipling  then  lived  in  three  rooms  on  the  second  floor, 
at  the  corner  of  Villiers  Street  and  the  Thames  Embank- 
ment ;  and  here  it  was  to  him  that  Robert  Barr  divulged 
his  plans  for  a  new  magazine.  The  young  author  took 
to  the  idea  at  once,  and  with  that  prompt  energy  which 
characterized  him,  he  produced  pens  and  paper  and 
started  to  sketch  out  a  cover  for  the  magazine.  We 
know  that  Kipling  can  produce  very  creditable  black  and 
white  sketches  when  he  likes.  Readers  of  "  Just  So 
Stories  "  do  not  need  to  be  told  that  he  is  an  artist  of 
quite  an  uncommon  order.  Although  his  father  was  an 
art  master  by  profession,  he  is  said  to  be  quite  without 
any  training  in  this  work.  "  He  liked  doing  things  his 
own  way,"  writes  one  who  knew  him  at  school,  "  and  if 
he  wanted  to  make  a  hill  square,  and  cover  it  with 
vermilion  grass,  he  would  do  it."  A  sketch  of  "  A  Tiger's 
Head,"  by  Kipling,  published  in  the  Strand  Magazine^ 
shows  that  he  could  at  times  observe  convention  and 
nature  at  the  same  time. 

Kipling's  sketch  for  Robert  Barr's  magazine  repre- 
sented a  statue,  the  real  face  of  which  wore  a  tragic 
expression,  while  the  mask  which  the  statue  held  up 
grinned  humorously  at  the  public.  Kipling  at  that  time 
had  been  burning  the  midnight  oil  and  generally  over- 
working himself.  On  his  table  he  had  graved  the  words  : 
"  Oft  was  I  weary  when  I  toiled  at  thee  " — the  motto 
which  the  galley-slave  carved  on  his  oar.  He  told 
Mr.  Barr  that  as  he  "  worked  late,  a  phantom  of  himself 
24 


BIOGRAPHICAL 

had  formed  the  disquieting  habit  of  sitting  down  opposite 
him  at  the  desk  of  weariness,"  and  this  he  "  regarded  as 
a  sign  to  knock  off."  .  Kipling  refused  the  editorship  of 
the  Idler^  but  he  contributed  the  following  articles  and 
stories  to  their  journal :  "  My  First  Book,"  "  My  Sunday 
at  Home,"  ''  Primum  Tempus,"  "  The  Legs  of  Sister 
Ursula,"  "  The  Ship  that  Found  Herself,"  and  "  The 
Story  of  Ung." 

Robert  Barr  had  a  Kipling  sea-story  in  view  when  he 
started  the  series  of  "  Tales  of  our  Coast."  They  were 
to  start  off  with  Clark  Russell  and  end  up  with  Kipling. 
Harold  Frederic  contributed  a  most  striking  Irish  sea 
sketch,  and  "  There  is  Sorrow  on  the  Sea  "  came  from 
Parker's  pen.  Eric  Mackay  wrote  a  poem  to  introduce 
the  series  which  was  illustrated  by  Frank  Brangwyn. 
The  third  story,  "  The  Roll  Call  of  the  Reef,"  was  by 
"  Q."  Kipling's  story  did  not  arrive  in  time,  but  it 
appeared  during  the  same  year,  and  was  illustrated  by 
T.  Walter  Wilson.  Kipling's  connexion  with  this  most 
cosmopolitan  magazine  must  have  been  a  very  valuable 
experience,  for  a  galaxy  of  budding  talent  had  gathered 
around  its  ideal  editor,  Jerome  K.  Jerome.  In  the 
Idler  such  writers  as  W.  W.  Jacobs,  Anthony  Hope, 
Zangwill,  and  W.  L.  Alden,  the  great  American  humorist, 
received  welcome  admission  long  before  the  other 
journals  looked  upon  their  work  as  "  valuable  copy." 

A  long  voyage  to  South  Africa,  Australia,  Ceylon,  and 
New  Zealand  took  up  most  of  his  time  in  1891,  and 
when  he  returned  he  met  Wolcott  Balestier,  a  young 
American  author  belonging  to  a  family  well  known  in 
the  literary  circles  of  New  York.  At  the  same  time  he 
became  acquainted  with  Balestier's  sister,  Caroline,  whom 
he  married  in  1892.  During  the  years  1 892-1 896  the 
young  couple  made  their  home  at  Bratleboro,  Vt.,  U.S.A., 
which  gave  Kipling  the  chance  to  gather  the  information 
about  the  New  England  fishermen,  which  he  uses  in 
"  Captains    Courageous."       "  Many    Inventions,"    the 

25 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

"  Jungle  Books,"  and  certain  poems  in  "  The  Seven 
Seas  "  were  also  written  or  planned  there.  / 

In  1896  Kipling  again  came  to  England,  and  he 
settled  at  Rottingdean  in  1898.  He  went  on  a  cruise 
with  the  navy  in  the  home  waters  in  1897,  and  again  in 
1898,  giving  his  notes  on  the  trips  in  ''  A  Fleet  in  Being," 
which  appeared  in  the  Morning  Post,  In  1900  he  was 
with  his  beloved  troops  in  South  Africa,  and  was  present 
with  Bennet  Burleigh  on  March  29,  during  the  fight  at 
Karree  Siding.  He  also  acted  as  an  associate  editor  of 
the  Friend,  a  Bloemfontein  journal  edited  by  the  war 
correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts'  troops.  He  wrote 
for  this  paper  "  King  Log  and  King  Stork  "  (March  24, 
1900),  "  The  Elephant  and  the  Lark's  Nest  "  (March  26, 
1900),  "  The  Persuasive  Pom-Pom,"  "  Vain  Horses," 
and  other  items.  "  A  Song  of  the  White  Man,"  which 
Julian  Ralph  states  in  ''  War's  Brighter  Side  "  *  was 
written  to  be  read  at  a  dinner  in  Canada,  appeared  in 
the  issue  of  April  2,  1900. 

Of  the  later  incidents  of  Kipling's  career  there  is  little 
need  to  write  ;  they  have  been  brought  before  the  notice 
of  the  public  by  the  Press  of  England  and  America  with 
unfailing  regularity. 

*  Published  in  1901  (Pearson). 


26 


CHAPTER  II 
KIPLING  AT  SCHOOL 

The  United  Services^  College  Magazine  :  Kipling's  school  poems  : 
The  author's  first  Empire  verses  :  Kipling  and  the  college  Literary 
Society  :  His  opinions  on  the  use  of  alcohol :  Tennyson's  "  Defence 
of  Lucknow  "  :  Bret  Harte's "  Concepcion  de  Arguello  "  :  Kipling's 
short-sightedness  a  handicap  in  athletic  competitions  :  Not  a 
favourite  with  other  boys  :  A  visit  to  the  old  school  :  "  Hints  on 
Schoolboy  Etiquette,"  by  Kipling. 


/  would  say  that  a  boy  is  a  savage,  hut  I  do  not  care  to  give  o^ence  to 
fond  parents.  To  educate  him  in  the  line  of  his  preferences,  as  the  race 
has  been  educated,  seems  to  me  the  only  sensible  way.  How  would  the 
New  Forest  answer  for  a  University  of  Empire,  with  Rudyard 
Kipling,  Eustace  Miles,  Sandow,  Lieutenant  Miiller,  Baden-Powelly 
Hilaire  Belloc,  Sir  Pratap  Singh,  and  a  mixture  of  men  of  these  types 
for  a  faculty  ?  The  woods  and  God^s  great  out-of-doors  would  give 
balance  and  ballast,  good  digestion,  and  sweet  sleep  at  night.  This 
life  in  the  open  would  be  better  for  the  young  than  stuffy  dormitories 
and  still  more  stufy  class-rooms,  where  much  precious  time  is  wasted 
in  listening  to  stuffy  lectures  about  things  that  are  foreign  to  life. 


CHAPTER  II 

KIPLING  AT  SCHOOL 

No  part  of  a  famous  man's  career  has  quite  the  same 
fascination  as  the  days  of  his  youth  and  obscurity,  when 
he  is  groping  blindly  towards  the  brilliant  future  which, 
although  he  probably  does  not  dream  of  it,  awaits  him  ; 
and,  in  the  case  of  Rudyard  Kipling,  this  period  of 
eclipse  is  all  the  more  interesting  as  he  has  presented 
part  of  it  to  the  public  in  his  vividly  boyish  series  of 
stories,  "  Stalky  and  Co." 

A  perusal  of  this  volume  leaves  no  doubt  in  the  mind 
of  the  reader  that  Master  Gigadibs,  the  sportive  Beetle, 
with  his  gig-lamps  and  a  craving  to  write  a  ''  simply 
lovely  poem,"  is  a  picture  of  the  author  during  his  days 
at  the  now  famous  West  Country  school.  A  writer's 
best  stories  are  always  in  part  autobiographical.  In  "  The 
Light  that  Failed "  we  cannot  help  assuming  that 
Dick  Heldar  is  reconstructed  from  Kipling's  inner 
consciousness,  and  in  "  Stalky  and  Co."  and  "  Kim  "  we 
find  the  texture  of  the  author's  mind  and  the  labyrinth 
of  his  heart  manifested  with  the  exactness  of  an  analyst. 
Beetle,  the  Bard  in  "  Stalky  and  Co.,"  with  his  bright, 
clean  touch  and  the  clever  schoolboy's  wit,  is  always  and 
ever  Rudyard  Kipling,  the  Bard  of  Empire. 

How  much  of  this  book  is  autobiography,  and  how 
much  is  drawn  from  the  limpid  springs  of  the  writer's 
imagination,  give  rise  to  a  somewhat  perplexing  question. 
Some  light  on  this  matter  is  to  be  gained  from  the 
columns  of  the  United  Services^  College  Magazine^  which 
was  issued  during  the  years  that   the  Three  Incompre- 

29 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

hensibles  waged  war  with  the  "  Ancients  of  the  College,'* 
which  was  from  1878  to  1882.  A  set  of  this  immature 
little  magazine  realized  the  sum  of  ^i^^o  at  a  London 
auction-room  some  years  ago.  And  I  am  told  that  this 
set  and  another  one  in  the  library  of  the  College — which 
now  has  been  transplanted  to  Harpenden,  in  Hertford- 
shire— are  the  only  two  known.  However,  much  that 
is  disguised  in  "  Stalky  and  Co.",  may  be  cleared  up  by 
examining  the  pages  of  the  College  Magazine.  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  not  as  difficult  to  keep  company  with 
Stalky  and  his  boy  companions  after  a  perusal  of  the 
little  volumes,  for  although  we  all  admire  Kipling's  story 
in  a  measure  it  is  rather  hard  to  agree  with  some  of  the 
proceedings  of  Stalky,  Beetle,  and  McTurk.  It  must  be 
admitted  that  these  youths  followed  a  code  of  ethics  not 
always  consistent  with  the  honour  of  self-respecting 
English  schoolboys,  and  that  they  were  not  specially 
inspired  by  any  of  that  esprit  de  corfs^  and  sense  of 
responsibility,  which  is  such  a  dominant  note  in  most  of 
Kipling's  work.  But  impressions  produced  by  the 
brutality  and  heartlessness  of  Stalky  and  his  friends,  are 
somewhat  toned  down  by  the  more  refined  and  happy 
atmosphere  of  the  author's  Alma  Mater,  as  reflected  in 
the  school  journal.  In  the  book.  Master  Gigadibs 
seems  to  be  only  happy  when  baiting  his  master,  or 
acting  as  lampooner  for  his  Uncle  Stalky.  But  we  find 
many  snatches  of  verse  from  his  pen  in  the  pages  of  the 
magazine  which  are  surcharged  with  humour  and  bon- 
homie. In  the  book  we  read  of  the  wild  antics  in  a 
pantomime  played  by  Stalky  and  other  boys  ;  in  the 
magazine,  we  find  that  the  performance  was  really  quite 
a  creditable  rendering  of  The  Rivals,  in  which  Kipling 
acted  the  part  of  Sir  Anthony.  Beetle  seems  to  waste  a 
good  deal  of  time  in  retreat  in  his  lair  in  the  furze  bushes, 
waiting  for  the  cat  that  walked  once  too  often  by  himself, 
to  twine  like  a  giddy  honeysuckle  above  the  heads  of 
those  who  had  incurred  the  wrath  of  the  heroic  trio. 
30 


KIPLING   AT   SCHOOL 

But  we  read  nothing  in  the  book  about  the  time  he 
spent  whilst  forming  the  College  Literary  and  Debating 
Society.  The  Beetle  was  its  founder  and  also  the  first 
secretary.  I  should  add  that  the  Natural  History 
Society,  which  was  treated  with  such  contempt  by 
Stalky  and  Co.,  and  referred  to  as  "  The  Bughunters," 
received  the  liberal  assistance  of  the  magazine  during 
the  years  1 881-2,  which  covers  the  period  of  Kipling's 
editorship.  The  "  old  rag,"  or  the  Swillingford  Patriot 
as  Stalky  had  christened  it,  received  but  scant  attention 
in  the  book.  It  is  mentioned  in  the  last  chapter,  in 
which  Beetle  goes  to  Randall's  printing  office  accom- 
panied by  his  confreres  to  correct  proofs.  The  printing 
office  of  the  magazine  can  still  be  seen  under  the  name 
of  Wilson  and  Sons  in  Mill  Street,  and  Mr.  Raven  Hill, 
who  made  a  special  study  of  the  local  colour  of  the 
district,  devoted  a  full-page  drawing  to  Beetle  at 
work  on  the  proofs  in  the  little  loft  behind  the  shop. 
Beneath  this  drawing  were  quoted  the  words :  "  He  saw 
himself  already  controlling  the  Times.^^  Raven  Hill's  illus- 
trations to  "  Stalky  and  Co."  in  the  Windsor  Magazine 
in  1899  should  be  in  the  hands  of  all  true  Kiplingites  ; 
to  cut  them  out  of  the  story  in  book  form  was  a  great 
mistake,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  in  a  future  edition 
they  will  be  reproduced. 

It  is,  of  course,  the  fact,  that  Kipling  edited  six  numbers 
of  the  school  magazine  that  has  given  them  their  fancy 
price.  The  first  effort  from  his  pen  made  its  appearance 
in  the  issue  of  June  30,  1881,  under  the  title  of  "A 
Devonshire  Legend,"  and  I  make  no  doubt  that  two 
other  articles  came  from  the  same  pen,  "  Life  in  the 
Corridor "  and  "  Concerning  Swaggers."  It  will  be 
recalled  that  the  college  corridor  is  mentioned  several 
times  in  '*  Stalky  and  Co." 

Some  of  the  efforts  are  headed  "  By  Rxxxxt  Bxxxxxxg," 
and  it  will  be  noticed  that  Kipling  has  closely  modelled 
several  of  his  early  poems   on   Browning,   but   as   Mr. 

31 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Adrian  Margaux  remarked  in  an  article  in  the  Captain,* 
"  the  subjects  would  hardly  have  commended  themselves 
to  the  Browning  Society."  I  must  not  fail,  however,  to 
draw  attention  to  "  The  Jampot,"  which  is  delightfully 
droll.  It  tells  of  a  fight  by  two  boys  for  a  pot  of  jam, 
which  was  smashed  to  shivers  during  the  contest : 

But  neither  of  us  shared 
The  dainty — Thafs  your  plea  F 
Well,  neither  of  us  cared, 
I  answer  .  .  .  Let  me  see 

How  have  your  trousers  fared  ? 

The  young  Kipling  thus  delivered  himself  on  a  college 
edict  prohibiting  the  use  of  stoves  for  cooking  in  the 
studies : 

The  cup  is  devoid  of  its  cofee, 
The  spoon  of  its  sugary  load, 
The  tablecloth  guiltless  of  tofee. 
And  sorrow  has  seized  our  abode. 

Our  tasks  they  are  as  dry  as  the  sea-sands. 
Our  throats  they  are  drier  than  these. 
No  cocoa  has  moistened  our  weasands. 
We  taste  not  of  Teas. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  last  attempt  on  the  life  of 
Queen  Victoria,  Kipling  contributed  a  poem  entitled 
"Ave  Imperatrix "  to  the  magazine  (March  1882). 
This  is  the  first  example  of  that  end-of-the-nineteenth- 
century  Imperialism  to  which  he  has  given  full  and 
final  expression  : 

'^uch  greeting  as  should  come  from  those 
Whose  fathers  faced  the  Sepoy  hordes. 
Or  served  you  in  the  Russian  snows. 
And,  dying,  left  their  sons  their  swords. 

And  all  are  bred  to  do  your  will 

By  land  and  sea — wherever  -flies 
The  flag,  to  fight  and  follow  still 

And  work  your  Empire^ s  destinies. 

*  "  Famous  Men  at  School,"  by  Adrian  Margaux  (the  Captain). 

32 


KIPLING   AT   SCHOOL 

There  are  some  interesting  notes  on  the  "  Literary 
Society  "  which  was  founded  in  1881  by  Kipling  in  the 
college  chronicle.  They  throw  many  sidelights  on  the 
school  life.  The  first  meeting  was  called  to  consider  the 
proposition :  "  that  a  classical  is  superior  to  a  mathe- 
matical education."  Kipling  spoke  in  the  negative. 
The  next  time  that  his  name  is  mentioned  we  read  that 
he  was  in  favour  of  a  resolution  which  affirmed  the 
"  Advance  of  the  Russians  in  Central  Asia  to  be  hostile 
to  the  British  Power."  Another  notice  records  that 
Kipling  moved  a  vote  of  censure  against  Mr.  Gladstone's 
Government.  This  ''  vote  "  was  carried  by  a  sweeping 
majority,  but  it  is  rather  astonishing  to  find  that 
Beresford — the  veritable  "  Uncle  Stalky  "  of  the  Stalky 
Book — was  one  of  the  opposing  speakers.  We  can 
imagine  Beetle's  glance  of  cold  scorn  when  he  met  the 
eye  of  the  "  Stalky  one  "  who,  no  doubt,  took  up  that 
attitude  to  annoy  "  Master  Gigadibs."  Kipling's  last 
speech  was  in  support  of  a  resolution  ''  that  total  absti- 
nence is  better  than  the  moderate  use  of  alcohol."  But 
the  teetotalers  were  defeated  in  the  end. 

I  do  not  think  that  Kipling  is  a  total  abstainer,  and 
certainly  his  writings  have  not  commended  temperance, 
but  after  seeing  two  young  men  drug  two  girls  with 
drink  at  an  American  concert  hall,  and  lead  them  reeling 
home,  he  became  converted  to  Prohibition.  Of  this 
painful  scene  he  has  written  : 

Then,  recanting  previous  opinions,  I  became  a  Prohibitionist.  Better 
it  is  that  a  man  should  go  without  his  beer  in  public  places,  and  content 
himself  with  swearing  at  the  narrow-mindedness  of  the  majority ;  better 
it  is  to  poison  the  inside  with  very  vile  temperance  drinks,  and  to  buy  lager 
furtively  at  back  doors,  than  to  bring  temptation  to  the  lips  of  young 
fools  such  as  the  four  I  had  seen.  I  understand  now  why  the  preachers 
rage  against  drink.  I  have  said, "  There  is  no  harm  in  it  taken  moderately  "  ; 
and  yet  my  own  demand  for  beer  helped  directly  to  send  these  two  girls 
reeling  down  the  dark  street  to— God  alone  knows  what  end.  If  liquor 
is  worth  drinking,  it  is  worth  taking  a  little  trouble  to  come  at — such 
trouble  as  a  man  will  undergo  to  compass  his  own  desires.     It  is  not  good 

c  33 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

that  we  should  let  it  lie  before  the  eyes  of  children,  and  I  have  been  a  fool 
in  writing  to  the  contrary. 

The  quality  of  that  fine  fooling  in  *'  Stalky  and  Co."  is 
not  shown  in  Kipling's  early  taste  in  reading.  He  read 
Tennyson's  "  Defence  of  Lucknow  "  before  the  Society 
on  one  occasion,  and  later  on  in  the  term  it  is  recorded 
he  contributed  to  a  meeting  a  recital  of  Bret  Harte's 
''  Concepcion  de  Arguello."  At  this  time  one  must 
remember  that  our  hero  was  but  sixteen,  and  the  choice 
of  the  latter  poem  to  read  before  a  school  society,  throws 
a  very  interesting  sidelight  on  the  boy  that  is  not  to  be 
gained  in  "  Stalky  and  Co."  It  will  be  recalled  that 
Harte's  poem  tells  of  a  Spanish  girl  who  waited  forty 
years  for  a  foreign  lover  only  to  learn,  in  the  end,  that 
he  had  been  killed  on  a  journey  to  Russia  a  few  weeks 
after  the  betrothal. 

The  only  honour  which  Kipling  received  at  Westward 
Ho  was  the  first  prize  for  English  literature.  There  is 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  substituted  Browning,  Dumas, 
and  Scott,  for  the  more  learned  men  who  prepared 
books  for  the  sole  purpose  of  confounding  boys ;  from  the 
fact  that  he  did  not  distinguish  himself  in  scholarship. 
Stevenson's  essay,  "  A  Defence  of  Idlers,"  shows  how  no 
time  is  actually  lost,  not  even  that  which  is  idled  away 
with  a  book.  But  this  is  a  point  that  is  very  hard  to 
explain  to  ambitious  parents.  However,  Kipling's  con- 
tributions to  the  college  chronicle  plainly  showed  that 
he  meant  to  pass  a  hawser  to  literature,  and  take  it  in 
tow. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  some  of  his  verses  appeared 
in  a  local  paper,  and  no  doubt  he  felt  like  Stevenson 
when  he  sold  his  first  essay,  ''  one  of  the  most  popular 
and  successful  writers  in  Great  Britain." 

Kipling  did  not  shine  in  the  athletic  field,  and  it  is 
certain  that  he  used  to  bank  on  his  physical  weakness 
when  cricket  was  to  be  evaded.  Only  once  does  his 
name  appear  in  the  athletic  competitions,  and  that  is 

34 


KIPLING   AT   SCHOOL 

an  entry  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  flat  race,  and  in  this  he 
was  one  of  the  last  "home."  Of  course  his  short- 
sightedness was  a  great  handicap  to  him  in  all  out  of  door 
sports,  but  eye-trouble  did  not  prevent  him  becoming 
one  of  the  best  swimmers  in  the  college,  which  was 
somewhat  of  an  achievement  at  Westward  Ho,  where 
all  the  boys  were  keen  swimmers. 

If  the  testimony  of  "  Foxy,"  the  old  drill-sergeant,  can 
be  relied  upon,  it  seems  that  Kipling  was  not  a  favourite 
with  the  other  boys.  This  ex-soldier  was  in  the  service 
of  the  college  up  to  a  few  years  ago,  and  he  described 
Kipling,  Beresford,  andDunsterville  (the  "  terrible  three  " 
of  "  Stalky  and  Co.")  in  most  vivid  terms.  He  was  the 
victim  of  many  pranks  which  are  recorded  in  the  book, 
and  it  is  said  that  he  was  not  very  gratified  with  his 
position  in  English  literature.  If  Kipling  did  not  find 
himself  popular  with  his  schoolfellows,  it  is  only  natural 
to  find  that  he  entered  into  an  alliance  with  Stalky  and 
McTurk.  The  other  two  boys  in  the  Triple  Alliance 
were  officers'  sons,  and  now  hold  commissions  themselves. 

The  last  visit  paid  by  Kipling  to  his  old  school  was 
in  1894.  On  July  25  of  that  year  he  journeyed  to 
Westward  Ho,  in  order  to  take  part  in  a  farewell 
presentation  to  Mr.  Price,  on  his  resignation  after  twenty 
years'  headmastership.  He  made  a  short  speech  on  this 
occasion,  from  which  he  evidently  built  up  the  poetical 
dedication  to  "  Stalky  and  Co."  which  was  published  five 
years  after  this  visit.  It  is  said  that  "  Stalky  and  Co."  was 
written  with  the  idea  of  giving  the  college  a  "  leg  up  "  ; 
however,  a  few  years  after  Kipling's  visit  it  was  transferred 
to  the  neighbourhood  of  London.  The  school-building 
still  remains,  and  has  been  converted  into  an  hotel.  So 
when  you  walk  along  the  cliffs,  you  need  not  trouble  to 
look  for  college  boys  making  their  way  from  Appledore 
to  invade  the  famous  tuck-shop  on  "  Bidevoor  Pro- 
menade." 

In  a  letter  which  during  Easter  1898  he  wrote  to  the 

35 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

editors  of  a  schoolboys'  paper,  Kipling  showed  that 
there  was  still  plenty  of  the  fun  and  twaddle  of  the 
Westward  Ho  days  left  in  him.  It  is  so  characteristic  of 
Kipling,  the  precocious  Indian  child,  and  Kipling  as  he 
is  now,  that  I  quote  it  intact : 

To  the  Editors,  School  Budget  : 

Gentlemen, — I  am  in  receipt  of  your  letter  of  no  date,  together  with 
copy  of  School  Budget,  Feb.  14,  and  you  seem  to  be  in  possession  of  all 
the  cheek  that  is  in  the  least  likely  to  do  you  any  good  in  this  world  or 
the  next.  And,  furthermore,  you  have  omitted  to  specify  where  your 
journal  is  printed  and  in  what  county  of  England  Horsmonden  is  situated. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  and  notwithstanding,  I  very  much  approve  of 
your  "  Hints  on  Schoolboy  Etiquette,"  and  have  taken  the  liberty  of  sending 
you  a  few  more  as  following  : 

1.  If  you  have  any  doubts  about  a  quantity,  cough.  In  three  cases 
out  of  five  this  will  save  you  being  asked  to  "  say  it  again." 

2.  The  two  most  useful  boys  in  a  form  are  :  (a)  the  master's  favourite 
pro  tern. ;  {b)  his  pet  aversion.  With  a  little  judicious  management  {a) 
can  keep  him  talking  through  the  first  part  of  the  construe,  and  {b)  can 
take  up  the  running  for  the  rest  of  the  time.  N.B. — ^A  syndicate  should 
arrange  to  do  (^'s)  impots,  in  return  for  this  service. 

3.  A  confirmed  guesser  is  worth  his  weight  in  gold  on  a  Monday  morning. 

4.  Never  shirk  a  master  out  of  bounds ;  pass  him  with  an  abstracted  eye, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  pull  out  a  letter  and  study  it  earnestly.  He  may 
think  it  is  a  commission  for  some  one  else. 

5.  When  pursued  by  the  native  farmer,  always  take  to  the  nearest  plough- 
land.    Men  stick  in  furrows  that  boys  can  run  over. 

6.  If  it  is  necessary  to  take  other  people's  apples,  do  it  on  a  Sunday. 
You  then  put  them  inside  your  topper,  which  is  better  than  trying  to 
button  them  into  a  tight  "  Eton." 

You  will  find  this  advice  worth  enormous  sums  of  money,  but  I  shall  be 
obliged  with  a  cheque  or  postal  order  for  sixpence  at  your  convenience, 
if  the  contribution  should  be  found  to  fill  more  than  one  page. 

Faithfully  yours. 


RuDYARD  Kipling. 


Capetown,  Easter  Monday,  '98. 


36 


CHAPTER  III 
PERSONALITY 

The  Vicomte  d'Humieres  :  An  American  critic  on  Kipling  : 
Kipling's  natural  love  of  Biblical  language  :  The  Bible  and  "  Reces- 
sional "  :  A  Pall  Mall  Gazette  burlesque  :  "  The  Ballad  of  the 
King's  Jest." 


He  who  influences  the  thought  of  his  times,  influences 

%ll  the  times  that  follow.    He  has  made  his  impress  on 

eternity. 


CHAPTER  III 

PERSONALITY 

The  personality  of  Rudyard  Kipling  is  a  factor  that 
counts  for  much.  There  are  flaws  in  his  finest  works ; 
there  are  certain  defects  in  his  genius.  With  all  his 
display  of  power  there  are  strange  lapses  and  weaknesses. 
But  such  defects  are  not  fatal,  and  the  thirst  of  the  true 
Kiplingite  is  never  slaked.  Considering  how  marvel- 
lously wide  his  range  in  verse  and  prose  is,  it  is  little 
short  of  a  miracle  that  he  has  met  with  no  serious 
reverses ;  he  knows  nothing  of  retreat  or  failure.  The 
critics  for  the  last  few  years  seem  to  have  been  unanimous 
in  denouncing  him — ^which  fact,  of  course,  recommends 
him  to  us.  Let  the  critics  take  courage,  they  may 
outwit  oblivion  yet,  even  though  they  do  nothing  but 
croak  and  catcall  at  some  one  who  is  hitching  his  wagon 
to  a  star.  It  is  in  this  manner  that  immortals  are 
made. 

Nothing  in  all  the  range  of  Kipling's  work  is  so  marked 
by  fine  feeling  as  "  Barrack  Room  Ballads  " — nothing 
deals  with  more  tangible  people.  Here  he  has  put  forth 
his  best,  his  very  best ;  and  the  richness  of  his  general 
information  about  Tommy  and  his  ways,  is  constantly 
astonishing  people.  In  the  lore  of  the  man-at-arms, 
Kipling  is  the  wisest  man  of  the  day.  Wisdom  is  the 
distilled  essence  of  intuition,  corroborated  by  experience. 
This  is  the  secret  of  Kipling's  strength — ^he  went  to  study 
the  life  of  the  Tommy,  not  because  it  offered  money  and  a 
new  field,  but  because  it  honestly  interested  him.  For 
years  he  has  helped  the  soldier  to  fight  his  battles,  until 

39 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

at  last  he  can  take  him  by  the  hand  as  a  comrade,  not  as 
a  lay-figure. 

Kipling  has  a  sense  of  humour.  Humour  is  a  lifebuoy, 
and  saves  you  from  drowning  when  you  jump  off  a  cliff 
into  a  sea  of  sermons.  An  author  (or  poet)  who  cannot 
laugh,  is  apt  to  explode — ^he  is  very  dangerous. 

I  am  certain  that  Kipling  is  a  man  with  a  "  very 
young  laugh."  I  can  imagine  him  seated  at  his  writing- 
table  beneath  that  portrait  of  Burne-Jones,  writing  such 
a  tale  as  "The  Bonds  of  Discipline,"  which  tells  of  a 
succession  of  uproarious  orgies  culminating  in  a  mock 
court-martial.  I  can  hear  that  boyish  laugh  as  he 
writes  ;  I  can  hear  him  chuckle  at  his  own  witticisms 
or  those  of  others. 

The  Vicomte  d'Humieres  has  told  us  of  Kipling's 
boyish  laugh  ;  he  has  also  told  us  a  little  about  his 
personal  appearance,  but  this  was  about  1905.  He 
speaks  of  the  author's  frank  and  open  expression  ;  of  his 
eyes  full  of  sympathy  and  gaiety,  eager  to  reflect  life  and 
all  that  it  holds  for  tinker  or  king  ;  of  the  hair  cropped 
in  the  fashion  of  the  Tommy.  And  his  nose  !  It  is  the 
nose  of  the  seeker  after  knowledge.  It  was  Albrecht 
Durer  who  said  of  Erasmus :  "  With  this  nose  he  success- 
fully hunted  down  everything  but  heresy."  To  under- 
stand what  Kipling  has  hunted  down  with  his  nose  one 
must  travel  the  world  over.  One  thing  is  certain : 
Kipling  does  not  attach  himself  to  any  particular  creed 
or  party.  He  evidently  thinks  that  to  belong  to  any 
party  is  to  be  owned  by  it.  Kipling's  soul  revolts  at  life 
in  a  groove.  He  dislikes  typical  men — their  ways  of 
life,  their  sophistry,  their  stupidity.  He  likes  to  be  free 
of  all  party  restrictions,  so  that  he  can  study  in  his  own 
sweet  way — when  at  school  he  was  distinguished  from 
other  boys  by  his  independence. 

At  the  little  country  printing  works  he  learned  his 
case,  worked  the  ink-balls,  and  manipulated  the  cropper. 
He  knows  the  craft  of  the  book  from  the  leaded  type  to 
40 


PERSONALITY 

the  printed  page.  This  has  a  distinct  bearing  on  his 
literary  style.  His  language  is  easy,  fluid,  suggestive. 
His  paragraphs  throw  a  purple  shadow,  and  are  pregnant 
with  meaning  beyond  what  the  textbook  supplies.  This 
is  one  part  genius  and  two  parts  experience. 

When  Kipling  was  assistant  editor  of  the  Pioneer 
(i  887-1 889),  his  intense  interest  in  life  and  great  curiosity, 
no  doubt  prompted  him  to  ask  his  chief  to  send  him 
forth  into  the  world  to  acquire  special  knowledge  for 
that  paper.  The  chief  volunteered  him  for  a  pilgrimage, 
no  doubt  in  the  same  spirit  as  Artemus  Ward  volunteered 
all  his  wife's  relations  for  the  purposes  of  war.  And 
thus  began  the  travels  of  Kipling,  special  correspondent 
to  the  whole  bloomin'  British  Empire.  He,  no  doubt, 
looked  back  with  just  a  little  twitch  of  the  heartstrings 
towards  the  strange  little  newspaper  office  where  he  had 
spent  some  arduous  but  profitable  years.  Then  the 
particular  corner  of  Empire  where  he  "  lay  awake  at 
nights,  plotting  and  scheming  to  write  something  that 
should  take  with  the  British  Public  "  faded  from  view. 
It  was  the  happiest  moment  he  had  ever  known.  The 
world  lay  beyond.  You  will  find  many  of  the  tales  of 
these  wanderings  in  the  two  volumes  "  From  Sea  to 
Sea."  Herein  are  to  be  read  his  fierce  affections  and  his 
amazing  dislikes.  And  so  Kipling  fared  forth  to  fame 
and  fortune. 

An  American  critic,  Arthur  Bartlett  Maurice,*  has 
summed  up  Kipling's  attitude  to  the  wit,  brains,  folly, 
and  brawn  of  the  world  in  a  few  words : 

A  young  genius  looked  out  upon  the  world,  beheld  there  laughter  and 
tears,  folly  and  wisdom,  and  considerable  wickedness  of  a  healthy  sort. 
The  wickedness  roused  no  anger  in  him.  There  was  no  disposition  to 
howl  stale  moralities,  his  mission  was  not  that  of  a  social  regenerator,  his 
work  betrayed  no  maudlin  indignation.  When  he  wrote  about  the  decep- 
tion of  a  husband  he  treated  all  three  parties  in  the  affair  with  perfect 

*  Kipling's  "  Verse  People,"  the  Bookman  (America),  March  1889. 
Reprinted  in  the  same  magazine  January  191 1. 

41 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

and  impartial  good  humour.  His  attitude  was  that  of  detachment,  his 
metier  to  watch  the  comedy  and  tragedy  of  it  all  as  one  watches  a  play. 
And  after  having  been  very  much  amused  and  a  little  bored,  he  sat  down 
to  his  writing-table  with  the  conviction  that 

We  are  very  slightly  changed 
From  the  semi-apes  that  ranged 
Indians  prehistoric  clay. 

There  are  times  when  he  seems  almost  to  resent  the  fact  that  human 
nature  shows  so  little  originality  in  its  weaknesses.  The  world  wags  on 
merrily  and  busily,  new  forces  are  constantly  springing  up  as  if  out  of  the 
ground,  the  hand  of  man  is  growing  more  cunning  and  his  brain  more 
active,  only  his  heart  can  invent  no  new  sin.  "  Jack  "  Barrett  jobbed  off 
to  Quetta  in  September  to  die  there,  attempting  two  men's  work,  Mrs. 
Barrett  mourning  him  "  five  lively  months  at  most  "  ;  Potiphar  Gubbins, 
C.E.,  hoisting  himself  to  social  prominence  and  highly  paid  posts  as  the 
complaisant  husband  of  an  attractive  wife — these  are  the  oldest  of  pitiable 
human  stories.  Through  the  verses  which  tell  of  these  people  there  rings 
a  note  of  half-humorous  protest  at  the  monotonous  sameness  of  life.  For 
the  purely  narrative  ditties  he  has  more  relish.  A  general  officer,  riding 
with  his  staff,  takes  down  a  heliograph  message  between  husband  and  wife 
and  finds  himself  alluded  to  as  "  that  most  immoral  man."  A  young 
lieutenant  wishing  to  break  an  engagement  in  a  gentlemanly  manner 
develops  appalling  epileptic  fits  with  the  assistance  of  Pears'  Shaving 
Sticks.  What  an  honest,  wholesome  love  of  fun  !  What  animal  spirits  ! 
He  can  see  the  amazement  on  the  general's  "  shaven  gill,"  and  chuckle  with 
Sleary  over  some  especially  artistic  and  alarming  seizure.  Above  all  he 
delights  as 

Tear  by  year  in  pious  patience  vengeful  Mrs.  Boffkin  sits. 
Waiting  for  the  Sleary  babies  to  develop  Sleary^ s  fits. 

One  thinks  of  him  as  roaring  with  laughter  whilst  he  writes  of  the  astonish- 
ment and  discomfiture  of  these  people,  as  the  "  good  Dumas  "  used  to  roar 
with  laughter  at  the  humorous  observations  of  his  characters. 

In  "  Departmental  Ditties "  we  have  Kipling  the 
entertainer  ;|in  his  short  stories  of  Indian  life  he  is  the 
necromancer,  but  in  "  Barrack  Room  Ballads  "  we  have 
Kipling  the  familiar  friend. 

Kipling  is  not  slow  in  taking  what  he  wants ;  he 
frankly  admits  his  indebtedness  to  the  work  of  other 
42 


PERSONALITY 

men  in  "  When  'Omer  Smote  'Is  Bloomin'  Lyre."  He 
makes  no  apologies — but  takes  all  that  he  needs  as  his 
divine  right.  And,  of  course,  he  justifies  himself  in 
taking  what  he  needs,  with  the  thought  that  he  gives  it 
all  back  to  us  with  interest  added. 

Kipling  shows  a  natural  love  of  Biblical  language,  and 
it  is  worth  while  to  observe  how  he  repeatedly  goes  to 
Holy  Writ  for  sonorous  expressions.  In  his  beautiful 
domestic  poem  on  Sussex  the  phrase  "  The  lot  has  fallen 
to  me "  recalls  Psalm  xvi,  7  (Prayer  Book  version) : 
"  The  lot  is  fallen  unto  me  in  a  fair  ground  :  yea,  I  have 
a  goodly  heritage."  Again  in  the  same  poem  we  find  in 
Stanza  I,  "  And  see  that  it  is  good,"  an  echo,  of  course, 
from  Genesis  i,  31  :  "  And  God  saw  everything  that  he 
had  made,  and,  behold,  it  was  very  good."  Take  the 
sixth  stanza  of  ''  Pharaoh  and  the  Sergeant,"  and  we 
read  "  'Tween  a  cloud  o'  dust  and  fire  " — which  can  be 
compared  with  Exodus  xiii,  21.  The  following  references 
will  show  that  Kipling  was  deeply  indebted  to  the 
Authorized  Version  in  "  Recessional  "  : 

"  Then  beware  lest  thou  forget  "  (Deuteronomy  vi,  12). 

"  The  thunder  of  the  captains,  and  the  shouting  "  (Job  xxxix,  25), 

"  The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit :  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart, 
O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise  "  (Psalm  li,  17). 

"  For  a  thousand  years  in  Thy  sight  are  but  yesterday  "  (Psalm  xc,  4). 

"  The  Gentiles,  which  have  not  the  law  "  (Romans  ii,  14). 

In  "  The  Nursing  Sister  "  is  another  instance  to  this 
point.  Kipling  has  written  "  Our  little  maids  that  have 
no  breasts  " — which  is  to  be  found  in  the  Song  of  Songs, 
viii,  8  :  ''  We  have  a  little  sister,  and  she  hath  no 
breasts." 

It  is,  of  course,  an  unnecessary  and  tedious  labour  to 
compare  minutely  Kipling's  work  with  the  Bible,  but 
one  or  two  more  comparisons  may  be  interesting. 
"  M' Andrew's    Hymn,"    which    I    think    reflects    the 

43 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

author's  ideas  on  life  more  than  any  other  poem,  seems 
to  have  been  written  with  a  fine  carelessness.  Kipling 
writes  as  the  fancy  takes  him,  and  it  is  difficult  to  imagine 
that  he  ever  corrects  or  prunes  his  prodigal  luxuriance. 
This  poem  contains  much  from  the  by-ways  of  the 
Bible : 

"  Better  the  sight  of  eyes  that  see  than  wanderin'  o'  desire  "  {see  Eccle- 
siastes,  vi,  9)  and — 

"  The  Mornin'  Stars "  (Job,  xxxviii,  7). 

"  When  the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted 
for  joy." 

Here  is  a  weird  scrap  of  burlesque  published  in  the 
Pall  Mall  Gazette^  which  rather  hints  at  Kipling's 
fondness  for  biblical  quotation.  Dr.  Parker  had  made  a 
statement  in  the  Idler  declaring  that  "  Kipling  was 
related  to  his  wife  ;  though  he  did  not  know  it  "  : 

He  knows  the  slang  of  Silver  Street,  the  horrors  of  Lahore, 

And  how  the  man-seal  breasts  the  waves  that  buffet  Labrador  .  .  . 

He  knows  each  -fine  gradation  Hwixt  the  General  and  the  sub., 

The  terms  employed  by  Atkins  when  they  fling  him  from  a  fub.. 

He  knows  an  Ekka  ponfs  points,  the  leper'' s  drear  abode. 

The  seamy  side  of  Simla,  the  flaring  Mile  End  Road  ; 

He  knows  the  DeviVs  tone  to  souls  too  pitiful  to  damn. 

He  knows  the  taste  of  every  regimental  mess  in  "  cham  "  ; 

He  knows  enough  to  annotate  the  Bible  verse  by  verse. 

And  how  to  draw  the  shekels  from  the  British  public^ s  purse 

In  reading  the  "  Ballad  of  the  King's  Jest  "  it  will  be 
noticed  that  Kipling  has  imitated  the  cadences  and 
mannerisms  of  Whittier's  "  Barbara  Frietchie."  Perhaps, 
also,  there  is  a  hint  of  a  debt  to  Ernest  Seton-Thompson's 
method  of  dealing  with  animal  stories  in  his  Jungle 
Books.  In  these  cases,  Kipling,  of  course,  takes  no  more 
than  a  writer's  privilege :  he  borrows  twenty-one 
shillings'-worth  of  silver,  and  pays  us  back  with  a  bright 
golden  guinea. 

44 


♦ 


i 


\l['/ 


Reproduced  by  special  permission  of  the  proprietors  of"  Punch  " 
READY-MADE  COATS-(OF-ARMS) ;  OR,  GIVING  'EM  FITS  ! 

Lord  K-pl-ng,  of  Mandelay.  Arms  :  Quarterly;  ist,  a  review  laudatory 
richly  deserved  quite  proper;  2nd,  an  heraldic  jungle-bok  rampant  under  several 
deodars  or  mem-sahibs  or  words  to  that  effect ;  3rd,  a  lordly  elephint  a  pilin' 
teak  ;  4th,  an  argotnautical  vessel  (in  verse)  in  full  sale,  classed  Ai  at  Lloyds, 
charged  with  a  cargo  of  technicalities  all  warranted  genuine.  Crest  :  On  a 
charger  argent  the  head  of  a  publisher  urgent.  Supporters:  Dexter,  a  Tommy 
Atkins  in  all  his  glory  arrayed  proper  by  a  plain  tailor  from  the  hills  ;  sinister, 
a  first-class  fighting-man  or  fuzzy  wuzzy  of  the  Soudan,  regardant  5 able  on  a 
British  square  charged  with  an  61an  effront^e. 
(H.  E.  Howe  after  E.  T.  Rked) 


CHAPTER  IV 
SOME  ANECDOTES 

A  perverse  view  of  Kipling  :  "  When  the  Rudyards  cease  from 
Kipling  "  :  S.  S.  McClure  :  Kipling's  idea  of  the  mark  of  genius : 
McClure  and  "  Kim  "  :  J.  M.  Barrie's  story  of  Kipling :  Kipling  and 
a  Suffragist :  The  Sydney  Bookfellozv  and  a  tiger  yarn  :  Impressions 
of  Kipling  in  Paine's  Biography  of  Mark  Twain  :  Twain's  pun  : 
First  meeting  between  Twain  and  Kipling  :  A  letter  from  Twain  : 
Mark  Twain  and  the  Boers  :  Kipling's  "  Bell  Buoy  "  praised  by 
Twain  :  The  Ascot  Cup  :  Rudyard  Kipling  and  Mark  Twain  in 
robes  of  scarlet  at  Oxford  :  Practical  joke  by  Kipling  :  Kipling  and 
American  publisher  ;  Zangwill  and  the  Pall  Mall  Magazine  :  Auto- 
graph hunters  :  The  vanishing  cheques  :  Brander  Matthews  in 
American  Outlook  :  The  Liverpool  Echo  :  A  disappointed  admirer  : 
A  Rottingdean  landlord  and  a  Kipling  autograph  letter  :  "  Dingley, 
the  Famous  Writer  "  :  An  excellent  skit  on  Rudyard  Kipling. 


O  comic  Spirit,  hovering  overhead. 
With  sage's  brows  and  finely  tempered  smile. 
From  whose  bowed  lips  a  silvery  laugh  is  sped 
At  pedantry,  stupidity  and  guile — 

So  visioned  by  that  sage  on  whom  you  bent 
Always  a  look  of  perfect  sympathy. 
Whose  laugh,  like  yours,  was  never  idly  spent — 
Look,  Spirit,  sometimes  fellowly  on  me  ! 

Letson  Taylor. 


CHAPTER  IV 

SOME  ANECDOTES 

It  is  natural  that  there  should  have  been  a  feeling  of 
resentment  on  the  part  of  some  of  the  old  school  of 
literary  men,  when  a  young  author  like  Kipling  attracted 
so  much  attention.  And  when  Kipling  turned  his  back 
upon  the  reporter  or  interviewer,  and  refused  to  give 
them  free  material  from  which  to  serve  up  a  paragraph 
or  so  of  wishy-washy  gossip,  he  was  instantly  branded  as  a 
peevish  prig.  This  perverse  view  of  Kipling  was  en- 
dorsed by  the  gossip  of  a  section  of  the  American  Press 
at  one  time,  and  such  remarks  as  the  following,  taken 
from  the  Papyrus,  February  191 1,  are  fairly  frequent 
even  now : 

There  was  nothing  to  his  (Kipling's)  talk — not  a  hint  of  the  magic  that 
lies  across  so  many  pages,  or  is  condensed  into  so  many  of  the  aptest  and 
most  striking  epithets  in  literature.  Pompous,  self-conceited,  snobbish, 
self-conscious,  priggish,  banal,  peevish  and  fractious,  without  a  visible  ray 
of  the  redeeming  kindliness  of  genius,  or  even  a  hint  of  his  thaumaturgic 
mental  power — this  is  what  they  told  me  of  the  man  who  has  taught  us 
all  so  much  about  men  and  women — who  may  be  said  to  have  added  a 
new  chapter  to  the  Book  of  the  Heart. 

Here  also  is  a  characteristic  rhyme  which  was  freely 
bandied  about  among  a  certain  section  of  London 
literary  men  : 

fFill  there  never  come  a  season 

Which  shall  rid  us  from  the  curse 
Of  a  -prose  which  knows  no  reason 

And  an  unmelodious  verse  ; 

47 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

When  the  world  shall  cease  to  wonder 

At  the  genius  of  an  Ass, 
And  a  hoy's  eccentric  blunder 

Shall  not  bring  success  to  'pass  ; 

When  mankind  shall  be  delivered 

From  the  clash  of  magazines. 
And  the  inkstand  shall  be  shivered 

Into  countless  smithereens  ; 
When  there  stands  a  muzzled  stripling. 

Mute,  beside  a  muzzled  bore  ; 
When  the  Rudyards  cease  from  Kipling 

And  the  Haggards  Ride  no  more  P 

Mr.  S.  S.  McClure  (founder  of  McClure's  Magazine) 
says  that  he  always  found  Kipling  courteous  and  cordial. 
He  also  relates  how,  when  he  met  Kipling  in  London, 
the  famous  author  reminded  him  that  at  a  previous 
meeting  in  America  he  "  had  talked  McClure^s  Magazine 
to  him  for  eight  solid  hours."  And  Kipling  suffered  the 
"  shop  "  of  the  enthusiastic  publisher  without  protest  ! 
He  only  remarked  "  McClure,  your  business  is  dealing 
in  brain  futures." 

It  is  stated  from  a  quarter  which  should  be  well 
informed,  that  Kipling  is  a  tolerant,  appreciative  novel- 
reader,  and  has  a  great  enthusiasm  for  "  shilling  shockers." 
He  has  a  large  respect  for  Guy  Boothby's  books,  which 
cannot  be  placed  far  above  the  average  pot-boiler. 
Kipling  once  asked  McClure  whether  he  had  ever  read 
"  David  Harum."  The  publisher  replied  :  "  No.  He's 
dead." 

Kipling  was  tickled  by  the  astute  American's  outlook 
on  literature,  and  said  :  "  That's  right,  McClure.  The 
mark  of  genius  is  to  eliminate  the  unnecessary." 

It  is  interesting  to  learn  that  Kipling  received  25,000 
dollars  for  the  rights  of  "  Kim  "  when  it  was  serialized 
in  McClure^s  Magazine,  although  when  the  author 
stopped  at  New  York  on  his  way  to  England,  a  few  years 
before,  he  was  unable  to  find  a  publisher  at  any  price. 

48 


SOME   ANECDOTES 

He  submitted  all  his  wonderful  range  of  early  work  to 
Harper  Bros,  of  New  York,  who  rejected  the  whole 
parcel.  It  is  said  that  the  young  author  was  so  indignant 
that  he  tried  no  other  American  publisher.  After  he 
returned  to  London,  he  wrote  "  The  Light  that  Failed,'* 
and  Lippincotts  paid  him  800  dollars  for  this  story, 
which  was  afterwards  syndicated  by  McClure. 

It  is  to  be  expected  that  Kipling  should  have  American 
leanings ;  one  of  these  is  his  craze  for  magazines. 
Magazine  reading  is  a  mania  in  the  States.  I  am  at  this 
point  reminded  of  the  story  of  how  Kipling  raided 
Mr.  J.  M.  Barrie's  stock  of  magazines  at  Waterloo 
Station.  Mr.  Barrie  was  hastening  from  the  bookstall 
laden  with  papers  ;  a  good  many  sixpenny  ones  among 
them,  he  dolefully  relates,  when,  in  rushing  round  a 
corner,  he  fell  into  the  arms  of  Kipling,  equally  in  a 
tearing  hurry.  They  turned  on  each  other  with  scowling 
faces,  then  smiled  in  recognition,  and  asked  each  other 
whither  he  went.  Then  Kipling  exclaiming,  "  Lucky 
beggar,  you've  got  papers  !  "  seized  the  bundle  from 
Barrie,  flung  him  some  money  and  rushed  away. 

"  But  you  did  not  stoop  to  pick  up  his  dirty  halfpence, 
did  you  ?  "  queried  one  of  Mr.  Barrie's  hearers,  amusedly. 

"  Didn't  I  though  !  "  returned  Barrie  ;  and  added 
ruefully,  "  but  he  hadn't  flung  me  half  enough." 

Stories  about  Rudyard  Kipling  are  very  numerous,  but 
I  fear  that  he  has  not  even  a  bowing  acquaintance  with 
the  anecdotes  which  pass  the  rounds  of  the  newspapers. 
Certain  of  them  can  be  run  down  to  other  well-known 
authors  of  the  past  twenty  years,  but  it  would  be 
impossible  to  straighten  out  the  tangle  with  any  accuracy. 

This  Kipling  story  comes  to  us  via  a  Pittsburg  paper. 
It  is  to  the  effect  that  at  some  anti-suffrage  dinner — 
time  and  place  conveniently  omitted  ! — ^he  said,  "  Have 
not  the  women  got  enough  ?  In  addition  to  all  their 
other  privileges,  why  should  they  have  the  vote  ?  I  was 
talking  to  a  suffragist  the  other  day,"  he  continued, 

D  49 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

"  and  she  said,  '  Why  should  a  woman  take  a  man's 
name  when  she  marries  him  ?  '  Why,"  answered  Kipling, 
"  should  she  take  everything  else  he's  got  ?  " 

I  am  indebted  to  the  Bookjellow  (Sydney)  for  the 
following  very  pleasing  anecdote  : 

Ever  hear  Kipling  tell  his  tiger  yarn  ?  It  was  at  a  small  station  on  one  of 
the  Indian  railways.  There  was  a  stationmaster  there  and  a  porter.  The 
latter  was  told  not  to  act  without  instructions  from  the  former,  or,  failing 
that,  from  the  head  office.  A  man-eater  broke  away  from  the  jungle, 
attacked  the  station,  seized  the  stationmaster,  and  began  to  make  mince- 
meat of  him.  The  porter  remembered  orders.  Going  to  the  telegraph, 
he  wired  to  headquarters :  "  Tiger  on  platform,  eating  station-master. 
Please  wire  instructions." 

The  ready  wit  of  Kipling  is  illustrated  in  the  following. 
"  Don't  you  think  it  strange,"  a  lady  is  supposed  to  have 
said  to  him,  "  that  sugar  is  the  only  word  in  the  English 
language  where  an  '  s  '  and  a  *  u  '  come  together  and 
are  pronounced  *  sh  '  ?  " 

"  Sure  !  "  Kipling  is  alleged  to  have  said. 

Kipling's  genius,  if  rot  his  tastes,  was  always  admired 
by  Mark  Twain.  His  impressions  of  Kipling  which  are 
given  in  Paine's  Biography  *  of  the  famous  American 
writer  clearly  indicate  this.  It  was  Twain,  it  will  be 
remembered,  who  paid  a  special  tribute  to  Kipling  at 
the  Authors'  Club  (London)  in  1899.  The  anxiety  and 
sympathy  of  the  entire  American  nation  had  just  followed 
Kipling  through  a  most  dangerous  illness  at  New  York 
City,  which  Mark  Twain  declared  had  done  much  to 
bring  England  and  America  close  together.  He  told  the 
members  of  the  Authors'  Club  that  he  had  been  engaged 
in  the  compiling  of  an  epoch-making  pun,  and  had 
brought  it  there  to  lay  at  their  feet,  "  not  to  ask  for 
their  indulgence,  but  for  their  applause."     It  was  this : 

Since  England  and  America  have  been  joined  in  Kipling,  may  they  not 
be  severed  in  Twain. 

*  "  Mark  Twain  :  A  Biography,"  vol.  ii,  p.  880.     (Harper  &  Bros.,  1912.) 
50 


SOME   ANECDOTES 

We  are  informed  that  hundreds  of  puns  had  been 
made  on  the  author's  pen-name,  but  this  was  probably 
his  first  and  only  attempt.  At  the  Savage  Club,  too, 
Twain  recalled  old  times,  and  his  first  London  visit 
twenty-seven  years  before : 

In  those  days  you  could  have  carried  Kipling  around  in  a  lunch-basket ; 
now  he  fills  the  world.  I  was  young  and  foolish  then,  now  I  am  old  and 
foolisher. 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1889  that  the  first  meeting 
between  Mark  Twain  and  Rudyard  Kipling  took  place. 
At  that  time  Kipling  was  only  known  to  an  Anglo-Indian 
public,  and  had  just  started  on  a  world  tour  for  the 
Pioneer^  writing  impressions  of  his  travel  home  to  that 
journal.  He  journeyed  to  Elmira  especially  to  see  Mark 
Twain.  It  seems  that  Twain  was  not  at  Quarry  Farm 
when  he  called,  but  Mrs.  Crane  and  Susy  Clemens 
asked  him  in,  and  he  took  a  seat  on  the  veranda  and 
talked  with  them  some  time — that  talk  which  Mark 
Twain  told  us  might  be  likened  to  footprints,  so  strong 
and  definite  was  the  impression  left  on  the  memory. 

He  spent  a  couple  of  hours  with  me,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  I  had 
surprised  him  as  much  as  he  had  surprised  me — and  the  honours  were 
easy.  I  believed  that  he  knew  more  than  any  person  I  had  met  before, 
and  I  knew  that  he  knew  that  I  knew  less  than  any  person  he  had  met 
before — though  he  did  not  sa  y  it,  and  I  was  not  expecting  that  he  would. .  . 
He  is  a  stranger  to  me,  but  he  is  a  most  remarkable  man — and  I  am  the 
other  one.  Between  us  we  cover  all  knowledge ;  he  knows  all  that  can 
be  known,  and  I  know  the  rest. 

Mark  Twain  also  has  remarked  that  Kipling  has 
enjoyed  a  unique  distinction,  "  that  of  being  the  only 
living  person  not  head  of  a  nation  whose  voice  is 
heard  around  the  world  the  moment  it  drops  a  remark  ; 
the  only  such  voice  in  existence  that  does  not  go  by 
slow  ship  and  rail,  but  always  travels  first  class — by 
cable." 

It  was  not  until  a  year  after  Kipling's  visit  to  Elmira 

SI 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

that  Twain  identified  him  with  the  author  of  "  Plain 
Tales,"  through  a  copy  of  the  London  World  which 
had  a  sketch  of  Kipling  in  it,  and  a  mention  that  he  had 
travelled  in  the  United  States. 

Kipling  has,  of  course,  left  an  account  of  this  visit  in 
his  ''  Letters  of  Travel." 

In  a  letter  to  Kipling  which  Twain  wrote  from 
Vancouver,  when  he  was  on  his  way  around  the  world 
in  1895,  he  refers  to  their  meeting  at  Elmira  : 

It  is  reported  that  you  are  about  to  visit  India.  This  has  moved  me 
to  journey  to  that  far  country  in  order  that  I  may  unload  from  my  conscience 
fldebt  long  due  to  you.  Years  ago  you  came  from  India  to  Elmira  to  visit 
me.  It  has  always  been  my  purpose  to  return  that  visit  and  that  great 
compliment  some  day.  I  shall  arrive  next  January,  and  you  must  be 
ready.  I  shall  come  riding  my  ayah  with  his  tusks  adorned  with  silver 
bells  and  ribbons,  and  escorted  by  a  troop  of  native  howdahs  richly  clad 
and  mounted  upon  a  herd  of  wild  bungalows ;  and  you  must  be  on  hand 
with  a  few  bottles  of  ghee,  for  I  shall  be  thirsty. 

During  the  last  South  African  War,  Mark  Twain's 
sympathies  were  always  with  the  Boers.  He  had 
explained  that  his  head  was  with  the  British,  but  his 
heart  must  remain  with  the  Boers,  who  were  fighting 
for  their  homes.  Twain  saw  that  the  only  thing  for 
him  to  do  was  to  remain  silent,  in  spite  of  a  "  voice  " 
which  urged  him  to  enter  his  protest  in  the  Press.  But 
in  spite  of  this,  Mark  Twain  cherished  no  hostility 
against  Kipling,  who  held  very  different  opinions  on  the 
great  question. 

"  I  am  not  fond  of  all  poetry,"  Twain  remarked, 
*'  but  there's  something  in  Kipling  that  appeals  to  me. 
I  guess  he's  just  about  my  level."  He  also  once  declared 
when  he  was  at  Florence,  that  he  hoped  Fate  would 
bring  Kipling  there  :  "  I  would  rather  see  him  than  any 
other  man." 

Kipling,  too,  held  a  very  high  opinion  of  Mark  Twain's 
genius,  as  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  to 
52 


SOME   ANECDOTES 

the  well-known  American  publisher,  Mr.  Frank  Double- 
day,  clearly  indicates : 

I  love  to  think  of  the  great  and  godlike  Clemens.    He  is  the  biggest 

man  you  have  on  your  side  of  the  water  by  a  d sight — Cervantes  was 

a  relation  of  his. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Doubleday  written  almost  the 
same  time  (1903),  we  learn  that  Mark  Twain  gloried  in 
the  riotous  strength  and  superabundant  vigour  of 
Kipling's  verse.  He  read  ''  The  Bell  Buoy  "  over  and 
over  again — "  my  custom  with  Kipling's  work  " — and 
also  remarked  that  a  "  bell  buoy  is  a  deeply  impressive 
fellow  being."  Many  a  night  at  sea  he  had  heard  him 
call,  sometimes  in  his  pathetic  and  melancholy  way,  and 
sometimes  with  his  strenuous  and  urgent  note  until  he 
got  his  meaning — now  he  had  the  words  !  He  hoped 
some  day  "  to  hear  the  poem  chanted  or  sung — with  the 
bell  buoy  breaking  out  in  the  distance." 

We  may  not  detail  all  the  incidents  regarding  the 
linking  up  of  Kipling  and  Twain  ;  even  this  path  leads 
to  monotony  in  the  end.  We  may  only  mention  that 
on  June  26,  1907,  Rudyard  Kipling,  Mark  Twain  and 
many  other  distinguished  citizens  assembled  at  the 
Sheldonian  Theatre,  Oxford,  to  receive  degrees.  A 
perfect  storm  of  applause  greeted  Mark  Twain  when  he 
appeared  clad  in  his  robe  of  scarlet  ;  and  the  Oxford 
undergraduates  wanted  to  know  where  he  had  hidden 
the  Ascot  Cup.  A  reference,  of  course,  to  Mark  Twain's 
speech  to  the  Pilgrims  at  the  Savoy  Hotel  (June  25,  1907), 
in  which  he  had  mentioned  how,  on  the  day  of  his 
arrival  in  England,  he  had  been  pained  by  a  newspaper 
placard  which  read :  "  Mark  Twain  Arrives  :  Ascot  Cup 
Stolen." 

Rudyard  Kipling  was  also  a  supreme  favourite  ;  but 
it  was  Twain  who  was  singled  out  for  most  of  the  yells 
and  cheering  of  the  undergraduates.  After  the  ceremony 
of  conferring  the  degrees ;  Mark  Twain,  Lord  Curzon, 

53 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

and  Kipling,  viewed  the  Oxford  pageant  from  a  box,  and 
it  was  here  that  a  folded  slip  of  paper,  on  the  outside  of 
which  "  Not  True "  was  written,  was  passed  up  to 
them.     The  paper  opened  read : 

East  is  East  and  West  is  West, 
And  never  the  Twain  shall  meet, 

Kipling  is  remembered  by  his  old  neighbours  in  the 
Punjab  as  a  man  who  was  brimful  of  boisterous  spirits, 
who  laughed  and  joked  the  lifelong  day.  He  was  fond 
of  practical  joking.  On  one  occasion  he  amused  himself 
the  whole  evening,  by  showing  the  natives  of  Dharwal 
all  the  grotesque  monsters  on  a  set  of  magic  lantern 
slides,  illustrating  Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  as  authentic 
portraits  of  the  Russian  people,  whose  activity  beyond 
Herat  was  then  causing  considerable  alarm  in  Anglo- 
Indian  circles. 

An  American  publisher  who  secured  a  story  from 
Kipling,  was  a  teetotaler  to  the  verge  of  fanaticism,  and 
looking  through  the  story  he  was  shocked  to  come 
upon  a  passage  where  the  hero  was  served  with  a 
glass  of  sherry.  He  wrote  to  Kipling,  pointing  out 
the  moral  harm  that  might  result  from  reading  of 
such  a  depraved  person,  and  requested  him  to  substi- 
tute some  non-intoxicating  beverage  for  the  harmful 
sherry. 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  Kipling  replied,  "  make  it  a  glass  of 
'  Blank's '  Baby  Food.  I  see  he  advertises  largely  in 
your  magazine." 

Of  course  he  has  no  way  of  protecting  himself  from 
being  forcibly  made  sponsor  for  anecdotes  in  the  papers ; 
and  the  reader  is  cautioned  against  accepting  as  authentic 
any  of  those  which  appear  in  this  chapter.  Here  is 
"  an  uncopyrighted  anecdote  "  which  passed  the  rounds 
of  the  American  Press  at  the  time  when  one  could  not 
pick  up  a  paper  without  reading  some  story  regarding 
Kipling : 

54 


SOME   ANECDOTES 

Once  when  Rudyard  Kipling  was  a  boy  he  ran  out  on  the  yard-arm 
of  a  ship.  "  Mr.  Kipling,"  called  a  scared  sailor,  "  your  boy  is  on  the 
yard  arm,  and  if  he  lets  go  he'll  drown." 

"  Ah,"  responded  Mr.  Kipling  with  a  yawn,  "  but  he  won't  let  go." 
This  incident  also  happened  to  Jim  Fiske,  Horace  Walpole,  Napoleon, 
Dick  Turpin,  Julius  Caesar  and  the  poet  Byron. 

Every  popular  author  has  to  face  the  autograph 
hunters,  and  during  his  last  year  of  residence  in  America, 
Kipling  was  assailed  on  all  sides  by  this  particular  breed 
of  pesterer.  He  cofifided  to  Zangwill  that  he  sent  out 
two  hundred  circulars  during  this  period,  to  the ''  admir- 
ing crew  who  ranked  him  before  Shakespeare,"  proposing 
that  they  should  send  him  a  donation  for  a  charity  in 
return  for  his  signature.*  Kipling  continued,  "  then 
the  floodgates — not  of  heaven — were  opened."  For 
weeks  abuse  rained  in  upon  him,  and  "thief"  seems  to 
have  been  the  mildest  rebuke  he  received. 

At  Vermont  Kipling  paid  all  his  household  bills  by 
cheque.  Many  of  these  cheques  were  very  small,  and 
the  shrewd  Yankee  tradesmen  soon  discovered  that 
autograph  hunters  would  pay  much  over  face  value  for 
them,  so  quite  a  number  did  not  turn  up  at  the  bank 
for  payment. 

One  shopkeeper  obliged  his  "  autograph  "  clients  with 
a  duplicate  memorandum  of  the  account.  For  example  : 
a  bill  against  Kipling  for  five  pounds  of  cheese,  accom- 
panied by  an  autograph  cheque  was  a  souvenir  that 
commanded  a  good  price.  The  consequence  was,  that 
when  Kipling  sent  his  bank  book  to  be  balanced,  it 
invariably  showed  more  to  his  credit  than  there  should 
have  been  on  its  return.  He  was  unable  to  account  for 
the  discrepancy,  until  one  day  he  saw  one  of  his  cheques 
given  for  a  case  of  bottled  beer  framed  and  hanging  in  a 
Boston  book-shop.  The  first  thing  he  did,  when  he 
returned  to  his  home,  was  to  burn  his  cheque  book. 

*  Pall  Mall  Magazine y  September  1895. 

55 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

After  that  he  insisted  on  paying  his  household  bills  in 
coin  of  the  realm. 

Here  is  a  story  related  by  Brander  Matthews  in  the 
American  Outlook  (January  14,  191 1) : 

Once  when  I  was  chatting  with  Rudyard  Kipling  about  the  principles 
of  literary  art,  I  chanced  to  tell  him  that  I  had  pointed  out  to  a  class  of 
college  students  the  various  masters  of  story-telling  in  whose  footsteps 
he  had  trod,  and  by  whose  examples  he  had  obviously  profited.  He  smiled 
pleasantly  and  drawled  out,  "  Why  give  it  away  ?  Why  not  let  them 
think  it  was  just  genius  ?  " 

The  Liverpool  Echo  printed  the  following  amusing 
experience  : 

Kipling  was  staying  in  the  hills  in  Simla,  where  all  the  lovely  Anglo- 
Indian  ladies  reside  in  summer  when  it  is  too  hot  for  them  to  endure  the 
climate  in  the  plains.  One  morning  the  lady  at  whose  house  he  was  a 
guest  introduced  him  to  a  young  and  fair  "  grass  widow."  As  the  couple 
chatted  amicably  together  whilst  walking  through  the  hills,  Kipling 
remarked,  "  I  suppose  you  can't  help  thinking  of  that  poor  husband  of 
yours  grilling  down  there  ?  "  The  lady  gave  him  an  odd  look,  he  thought, 
and  he  realized  why  when  he  afterwards  learnt  that  she  was  not  a  "  grass 
widow  "  but  a  widow  indeed. 

Here  is  a  story  which  appeared  in  Tes  or  No  (January  18, 
1908),  but  it  has  been  told  of  many  celebrated  people  ; 
however,  I  give  it  for  what  it  is  worth : 

A  young  lady  admirer  of  Kipling  on  meeting  the  famous  writer  was 
rather  disappointed.  "  You  1  "  she  cried.  "  You — you  are  Rudyard 
Kipling." 

R.  K.  felt  rather  embarrassed,  but  managed  to  modestly  murmur,  "  Yes." 

''  But  I  thought,"  she  said,  "  I  thought  you  were — oh,  how  shall  I  say 
it  ? — something  quite,  quite  different !  " 

"  Oh,  I  am,"  responded  Rudyard  in  a  very  confidential  tone,  "  I  am, 
madam  !    Only,  you  see,  this  is  my  day  off  !  " 

When  Kipling  lived  at  Rottingdean,  in  the  old 
house  which  faces  the  vicarage,  he  was  annoyed  by  the 
driver  of  the  local  'bus,  who  often  pointed  his  whip 
when  he  encountered  the  poet,   and  announced  in   a 

56 


SOME   ANECDOTES 

stentorian  voice  to  his  human  freight :  "  Here  we  have 
Mr.  Kipling,  the  soldier-poet."  Kipling  suffered  this 
in  silence,  but  things  came  to  a  crisis  when  the  Jehu 
came  into  collision  with  his  favourite  tree,  doing  much 
damage  to  it.  He  wrote  at  once  a  vigorous  letter  of 
complaint  to  the  'bus  owner  who  was  landlord  of  the 
"White  Horse  Inn." 

Boniface  laid  the  letter  before  the  select  company  of 
his  bar  parlour,  who,  one  and  all  advised  calm  indifference. 
Also,  a  man  with  an  eye  to  the  main  chance,  offered  the 
landlord  ten  shillings  in  cash  for  the  autograph  letter. 
Both  cash  and  advice  were  accepted.  A  second  and 
stronger  letter  followed,  and  Boniface  carried  the  auto- 
graph to  a  bookseller  and  demanded  a  pound  for  it, 
since  the  violence  of  the  letter  was  quite  double  strength. 
The  bookseller  eagerly  snapped  it  up,  and  the  merry 
landlord  warmed  to  the  game,  dreaming  of  more  missives. 
But  next  day  Kipling  entered  briskly  and  very  wrathful. 

"  Why  don't  I  answer  your  letter,  sir  ?  Why,  I  was 
hoping  you'd  send  me  a  fresh  one  every  day.  They  pay 
a  deal  better  than  'bus  driving." 

It  is  not  surprising  that  an  author  such  as  Kipling,  the 
greatest  in  his  own  particular  art  that  the  world  of 
English  letters  has  seen,  should  figure  as  the  hero  of  a 
novel.  But  few  are  acquainted  with  this  book  which 
was  crowned  in  1906  by  the  Goncourt  Academy.  It 
was  written  by  Jerome  and  Jean  Tharaud,  and  entitled 
"  Dingley,  the  Famous  Writer." 

The  book  is  an  attack  on  British  Imperialism,  and  a 
critic  in  Le  Figaro  claims  that  Dingley,  the  hero,  is  no 
other  than  Mr.  Kipling.  "  Dingley,"  says  this  critic, 
condensing  the  plot,  "  is  a  genius  and  an  immensely 
popular  novelist.  He  has  glorified  English  empire  and 
colonialism.  He  has  understood  and  delineated  Oriental 
as  well  as  Occidental  character  ;  he  has  made  the  past 
live,  and  has  interpreted  ancient  civilization  to  modern. 
In  short,  he  has  known  success,  fame,  and  glory." 

57 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

None  the  less,  Dingley  is  dissatisfied.  Dominated  by 
the  glamour  of  empire,  he  wishes  to  achieve  in  action 
something  beyond  mere  writing : 

An  accidental  scene  witnessed  by  him  on  the  street  decides  his  course. 
The  British  Empire,  at  that  moment,  is  held  in  check  and  defied  in  South 
Africa  by  a  mere  handful  of  audacious  and  insolent  Boers.  The  pride  of 
England  is  wounded  and  humiliated,  and  all  patriots  are  disheartened. 
Dingley  happens  to  see  how  a  recruiting  sergeant  secures  two  or  three 
volunteers  for  the  campaign  after  filling  them  with  gin  and  extorting 
binding  promises  from  them.  These  drunken,  lazy,  good-for-nothing 
vagrants,  Dingley  says  to  himself,  when  they  recover  self-control  and  find 
themselves  in  her  Majesty's  uniform,  will  be  transformed  into  men,  into 
soldiers  of  empire.  The  virtues  and  heroism  of  war  will  make  noble 
creatures  of  them.  What  a  fine  subject  for  a  book  on  war  for  empire  ! 
The  first  few  chapters  of  the  new  book  are  written  at  once  in  feverish  haste, 
but  Dingley  determines  to  embark  for  South  Africa  and  see  the  war  for 
himself.  His  wife,  a  gentle,  noble  woman  of  French  extraction,  urges 
him  to  stay  in  England  and  take  a  more  philosophical  view  of  war,  which 
degrades  and  brutalizes  some,  even  if  it  elevates  others. 

On  the  way  out  some  of  the  seamy  side  of  militarism 
is  forced  upon  Dingley,  but  he  ignores  it,  and  imme- 
diately on  arrival  joins  a  detachment  of  troops  which  is 
in  pursuit  of  a  Boer  commando. 

In  the  meantime,  Mrs.  Dingley  forms  at  Cape  Town 
a  sincere  friendship  with  a  loyal  Boer  family,  named 
Du  Toit,  whose  eldest  son,  Lucas,  however,  has  taken 
up  arms  against  the  British.  Nothing  further  is  known 
about  Lucas,  and  his  family  fear  that  he  has  been  taken 
prisoner.  "  Archie,  son  of  his  father,  goes  out  at  night 
to  see  an  executed  Boer  rebel,  and  returns  with  a  fever 
that  threatens  to  be  fatal.  Dingley  is  hurriedly  sent  for, 
and  the  letter  reaches  him  at  a  distance.  The  road  is 
not  safe,  the  fields  are  barren,  deserted,  and  the  badly 
dug  graves  of  soldiers  are  on  every  hand.  Dingley 
chances  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Lucas  Du  Toit,  who, 
however,  shows  every  kindness  to  the  Imperialist  and 
Boer-hating  Englishman,  thus  heaping  coals  of  fire  upon 
his  head.     Dingley  arrives  too  late  ;    his  boy  is  dead." 

58 


'  M  \  -i^^^i^ 


=      o 

-    .S 

5 


SOME   ANECDOTES 

Shortly  after  this  Lucas  is  captured,  and  although 
Dingley  can  save  him  from  death,  he  refuses  to  help  the 
rebel  who  had  once  been  kind  to  him. 

The  striking  line  and  phrases  in  Kipling's  verse  have, 
as  it  may  be  expected,  attracted  many  parodists ;  and  some 
years  ago  the  papers  were  full  of  burlesques  and  skits  on 
his  work.  Many  readers  will  remember  a  little  volume 
styled  "  All  Expenses  Paid  "  (Constable  and  Co.,  1895) 
which  contained  some  excellent  parody  and  caricature 
of  the  poetry  and  style  of  the  great  ones  in  the  literary 
world.  The  outline  of  this  skit  is  as  follows.  A  certain 
butcher  of  unusual  aspirations  and  immense  fortune 
devoted  ten  thousand  pounds  to  taking  a  select  party  of 
minor  poets  to  Parnassus.  Messrs.  Richard  Le  Gallienne 
and  W.  B.  Yeats  arranged  the  outing,  and  the  company 
included  Rudyard  Kipling,  William  Watson,  Arthur 
Symons  and  Francis  Thompson ;  and  in  truth  all 
"  stars  "  of  the  accursed  race  of  poets  who  worshipped 
at  the  Bodley  Head.  How  they  started  out  and  fore- 
gathered at  the  foot  of  Parnassus,  is  all  chronicled  with  a 
refreshing  irreverence  towards  the  minor  bards.  Ascend- 
ing the  resort  of  the  Muses,  they  were  led  by  Mercury 
before  an  inspiring  gathering  of  the  mighty  dead,  with 
Shakespeare  in  the  chair,  and  Wordsworth,  Shelley,  and 
Chaucer  well  in  the  front.  Adorned  with  a  garland  of 
crocuses,  attired  in  robes  of  pure  white,  and  seated  on 
an  ass  similarly  decorated  and  attired,  they  were  led  in 
order  of  merit  before  the  master  whose  work  was  held 
to  have  most  influenced  their  own. 

The  limited  circulation  of  the  poets  and  poetesses  continued  without 
any  notable  incident  till  it  came  to  the  turn  of  Rudyard  Kipling  to  go 
on  tour,  for  the  friend  of  Tommy  Atkins  declared  in  an  undertone  that 
he  was  tired  of  the  whole  mummery,  that  the  beastly  crocuses  got  in  his 
eyes,  that  he  felt  an  almost  uncontrollable  impulse  to  misbehave  himself 
in  some  way  or  another.  Happily  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  be  pacific,  but 
no  expostulation  from  his  chief  would  induce  him  to  wear  an  ecstatic  cast 
of  countenance,  though  an  expression  of  pleasure  flitted  over  his  face 

59 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

when  the  donkey  stopped  in  front  of  Chaucer.  And  now  the  two  extremes 
of  English  poetry  confronted  each  other  !  Before  the  Everlasting  could 
speak  Apollo  sang  with  an  army  accent  the  verses  here  following  : 

Pve  criticized  some  mortals  in  my  time, 

An^  some  of  ^em  was  great  arC  some  was  not ; 
There  was  some  as  couldn't  jingle  worth  a  dime. 

There  was  ^Omer,  Billiam  Shakespeare,  Walter  Scott : 
But  for  knockin*  slang  an^  potry  into  one. 

For  futtin'  pepper  on  our  old  emotions. 
It's  certain  sure  you  easy  take  the  Bun, 

An*  you  play  the  Comb  an*  Paper  with  our  notions  I 

So  ^ere^s  to  you,  Lippy-Kippy,from  the  far  United  States, 

Where  the  white  man  spends  the  dollar  and  the  Nigger  wipes  the  plates  ; 

ToiCve  got  your  share  d*  crocuses,  an'  if  the  colour  suits, 

YoiCre  welcome^  Lippy-Kippy,  you  can  bet  your  bloomin''  boots  ! 


While  these  verses  were  being  recited  by  Apollo  in  his  best  Cockney 
manner,  the  changes  that  swept  over  the  face  of  Chaucer  were  rapid, 
but  unforbidding.  Before  the  song  commenced  he  had  seemed  to  be 
upon  the  point  of  engaging  the  Laureate  of  Pipeclay  in  conversation,  but 
at  its  termination  he  buried  his  face  in  his  purple  mantle.  Muttering  to 
himself  that  the  immortal  was  a  "  bigoted  old  buffer,"  Rudyard  Kipling 
stirred  the  beast  he  bestrode  into  a  continuation  of  his  walk  by  the  simple 
expedient  of  kicking  his  ribs. 


60 


CHAPTER  V 

"THE  BRUSHWOOD  BOY"  AND 
"THEY" 


"  . 


Easy  and  contemptuous  style  :  "  The  Cruise  of  the  Cachalot 
American  Bookman :  Outline  of  "The  Brushwood  Boy  "  : "  They  " ; 
Letters  on  "They  "  :  "  The  Disturber  of  the  Traffic"  :  Kipling's 
representation  of  mental  moods  :  Moonshine  in  "  At  the  End  of 
the  Passage  "  :  "  The  Finest  Story  in  the  World  "  :  Kipling  a 
fallen  idol  :  The  Bellman  of  Minneapolis  takes  Kipling  to  task  : 
Americans  refuse  to  forgive  Kipling  for  not  dying  in  New  York. 


There  was  an  old,  belief  that  in  the  embers 
Of  all  things  their  primordial  form  exists y 

A7id  cunning  alchemists 
Could  re-create  the  rose  with  all  its  members 
From  its  own  ashes,  but  without  the  bloom^ 

Without  the  lost  -perfume. 


CHAPTER  V 

"  THE  BRUSHWOOD  BOY  "  AND 
" THEY " 

In  estimating  Kipling's  genius  and  his  influence,  one 
must  take  stock  of  the  gear  and  equipment  with  which 
he  started  out  into  the  triumphant  sunlight  of  public 
favour.  His  imperialism  is  a  thing  apart ;  it  has  no 
bearing  on  his  pure  literary  gifts :  moreover  fame  came 
to  him  on  the  tide  of  popularity  which  greeted  "  The 
Story  of  the  Gadsbys."  This  book  may  be  said  to  mark 
the  turning-point  in  his  career.  And  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  one  of  the  chief  secrets  of  Kipling's  power 
and  success  is  to  be  found  in  the  now  famous  Envoi  to 
that  unpretentious  little  book  ;  it  is  the  last  line  with  its 
almost  brutal  frankness  that  holds  the  secret :  "  He 
travels  the  fastest  who  travels  alone."  As  the  theme  of 
the  story  was  marriage  with  its  inevitable  peck  of  cares, 
the  line  has  been  looked  upon  as  a  somewhat  rough  and 
ready  warning,  half  serious  and  half  mocking,  to  those 
about  to  consider  the  institution  which  is  declared  by 
St.  Paul  "  to  be  honourable  among  all  men."  Was  it  a 
note  of  warning  pure  and  simple,  or  should  we  look  upon 
it  as  a  stepping-stone  that  one  must  mount  to  sum  up 
the  man  and  his  creed  ?  We  must  never  lose  sight  of 
the  fact  that  Kipling's  style  is  always  easy  and  con- 
temptuous ;  it  might  be  likened  to  a  torpedo-boat, 
cutting  her  way  through  a  North  Sea  gale  by  the  mere 
force  of  her  screw-propellers. 

The  Kipling  we  know  of  ever  travels  alone.     It  was  so 

63 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

in  his  early  days  in  India,  it  is  more  so  now.  Like  almost 
all  Anglo-Saxon  writers,  Kipling  has  a  message  and  is 
more  or  less  a  moralist.  He  believes  in  a  life  of  vigorous 
action  as  a  cure-all.  "  Stand  to  your  work  and  be  wise — 
certain  of  sword  and  pen,"  reads  one  of  his  well-known 
lines.  That  is  Kipling  all  over.  He  has  no  sympathy 
with  the  man  who  is  not  certain  about  himself,  or  the 
man  who  cannot  travel  alone.  To  Mr.  F.  T.  Bullen 
who  asked  him  to  contribute  an  introduction  to  "  The 
Cruise  of  the  Cachalot  "  he  once  wrote  : 

Some  rather  interesting  experiences  have  taught  me  that  the  best  way 
of  making  a  man  hate  me  for  life  is  to  meddle  in  any  way  with  his  work 
...  If  the  book  is  good,  it  will  go,  and  if  not,  nothing  will  make  it 
stir  .  .  .  All  the  men  who  want  to  stick  a  knife  into  me  would  stick  it 
into  you  as  soon  as  they  saw  my  name  prefacing  your  book.  Bitter  experience 
has  taught  me  that  that  kind  of  thing  doesn't  pay — 

which  was  only  another  way  of  saying  "  He  travels  the 
fastest  who  travels  alone." 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  one  about  him  is  his 
complete  independence.  This  rather  surly  attitude  on 
the  part  of  an  author  who  was  not  flaming  amazement 
on  us,  who  was. not  blazing  a  trail  in  literature,  would 
almost  be  an  impertinence.  But  Kipling's  gross,  im- 
placable creed  breaks  through  our  perplexity  ;  we  are 
carried  breathless  over  all  his  paganism  by  the  very  way 
in  which  he  ruthlessly  breaks  all  the  laws  and  traditions 
of  the  art  of  letters.  He  is  the  old  gipsy  man  of  litera- 
ture ;  he  knows  no  laws  ;  what  he  wants  he  simply 
takes  ;  and  if  you  don't  like  his  methods  and  were  so 
bold  as  to  tell  him  so,  he  would  most  certainly  tell  you 
"  lump  them."  He  is  not  considering  you  or  anyone  else ; 
he  does  not  care  a  fig  for  your  *'  college  educations  " — 
for  the  most  part  "  colleges  are  places  where  the  pebbles 
are  polished  and  the  diamonds  are  dimmed."  He  is  only 
considering  how  to  get  to  the  goal  he  has  marked  out — 
to  be  master  of  the  elastic,  elusive,  and  delightful  English 

64 


''THE   BRUSHWOOD    BOY" 

language.  He  is  following  in  the  tracks  of  the  muzzy- 
Scotsman,  the  shopkeeping  pamphleteer,  the  gaoled 
tinker,  the  German  Jew  and  the  French  thief — all 
searchers  after  the  essential  word.  He  is  a  prince,  a 
vagabond,  a  highwayman  or  what  you  choose  to  call  him, 
but  you  cannot  afford  to  ignore  him. 

The  American  Bookman  comments  on  the  barrack- 
yard  "Attention  !    d your  eyes''  style  with  which 

Kipling  girds  on  his  literary  harness : 

"  I  will  write  what  I  please.  I  will  not  alter  a  line.  If  it  please  me  to 
do  so  I  will  refer  to  her  Gracious  Majesty — bless  her  ! — as  the  little  fat 
widow  of  Windsor,  and  fill  the  mouth  of  Mulvaney  with  filth  and  oaths. 
I  will  not  *  meet  people.'  If  I  am  on  ship-board  and  prefer  passing  my 
time  in  the  smoking-room  drinking  Scotch  whiskey  I  will  do  so.  I  will 
not  truckle  to  old  women  or  fawn  upon  fools.  Here  is  my  work.  You 
may  take  it  or  leave  it.  Oest  a  'prendre  ou  a  laisser  !  I  am  playing  off  my 
own  bat.  I  am  travelling  alone — always  alone."  This  attitude  is  of 
vital  interest  as  being  in  a  measure  the  keynote  of  his  work.  It  has  another 
interest.  People  have  invited  and  received  personal  rebuffs  and  gone  away 
crying  :  '  Snob  !  Cad  ! '  Snob  !  Of  course,  he  is  a  snob  !  So,  madame 
or  monsieur,  is  any  great  man  who  does  not  hang  gaping  and  breathless 
upon  your  twaddle  ;  who  does  not  accede  gaily  to  your  request  that  he 
send  you  an  autograph  collection  of  his  works ;  who  does  not  undertake  to 
find  a  publisher  for  your  own  or  your  daughter's  manuscript.  A  snob  ! 
Certainly. 

With  all  his  fire  and  his  energy,  his  wilful  heathenism 
(bravely  blatant  in  that  wonderful  series  of  children's 
short  stories  beginning  with  "  Just-So  Stories "  and 
ending  with  "  Puck  of  Pook's  Hill  "  and  "  Rewards  and 
Fairies  "),  his  boyish  enthusiasm  for  effective  force,  his 
periodical  fits  of  political  fanaticism,  and  his  lyric  delight 
in  sound,  smell  and  colour,  and  all  the  gear  that  goes  with 
the  far-flung  battle-lines  of  our  Empire,  Rudyard  Kipling 
eludes  us.  Even  in  his  gorgeous  and  mighty  songs  of  our 
soldiers  there  is  often  something  shadowy  and  intangible. 
And  I  suppose  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  he 
means  there  should  be.  He  seems  to  be  a  compound  of 
a  Benedictine  Monk,  a  Crusader,  and  a  Buccaneer. 

E  65 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

A  good  example  of  Kipling's  curious  mixture  of  severe 
and  yet  sensitive  art  is  the  study  in  dreams  entitled 
"  The  Brushwood  Boy."  It  is  probable  that  everybody 
who  is  at  all  a  constant  dreamer  has  had  at  least  one 
experience  of  an  event,  or  a  sequence  of  circumstances 
which  have  come  to  his  mind  in  sleep,  being  subsequently 
realized  in  the  material  world.  But,  after  all,  if  one 
reflects,  this  is  not  at  all  remarkable ;  it  would  be 
stranger  still  if  this  fulfilment  did  not  occasionally  happen, 
since  our  dreams  are  as  a  rule  concerned  with  people 
whom  we  know  and  places  with  which  we  are  familiar 
when  we  return  from  the  "  City  of  Sleep." 

Kipling  in  his  "  Brushwood  Boy  "  has  grasped  this 
fact,  and  in  his  hero,  George  Cottar,  we  have  a  study  at 
once  penetrating  and  charming.  We  follow  his  progress 
from  nursery  days  to  the  period  immediately  before  his 
marriage,  in  a  series  of  fantastic  dreams  which  range  side 
by  side  with  his  everyday  life.  These  dreams  are  always 
connected  with  the  Brushwood  Girl.  In  the  first  place, 
a  princess  from  an  old  illustrated  edition  of  Grimm  is 
seized  upon  as  the  girl  of  his  dreams,  but  after  a  visit  to 
Oxford,  where  he  comes  into  direct  contact  with  the 
real  Brushwood  Girl  at  a  performance  of  "  Pepper's 
Ghost,"  he  "  shamelessly "  discards  the  princess  from 
the  fairy  story,  and  either  consciously,  or  subconsciously 
instals  the  "  little  girl  dressed  all  in  black."  He  has 
dazzling  adventures  at  home  and  in  the  Far  East  with 
the  dream  girl,  and,  interwoven  with  his  early  days  in 
the  Indian  Army,  Kipling  has  given  us  the  incom- 
municable stuff  from  which  dreams  are  made,  the 
ghost-whispers  which  come  out  of  the  darkness,  and 
return  again  to  the  darkness. 

But  one  dream  with  variations  comes  intermittently  to 
George  Cottar  for  twenty  years  or  so,  and  each  time  the 
Brushwood  Girl  appears  to  grow  more  real. 

As  the  dream  continues  to  recur,  the  power  of  reality 
becomes  so  contagious  and  overpowering  that  the 
66 


"THE   BRUSHWOOD   BOY" 

reader  is  forced  to  conclude  that  the  physical  attraction 
which  the  dream-girl  wields  over  George  Cottar  warns 
him  away  from  all  other  women. 

When  Cottar  returns  to  England  on  furlough,  he 
finds  the  Brushwood  Girl  of  his  dreams  in  Miriam  Lacy. 
Everybody  who  is  familiar  with  Kipling's  writings  will 
put  this  story  in  a  favourable  place  ;  besides  being  a 
wonderful  excursion  into  the  realms  of  fantasy,  it  is 
sealed  with  his  seal,  and  is  eloquent  with  his  gospel. 
Here  we  have  for  a  hero  the  author's  ideal  of  manhood : 
the  clean-living,  decisive,  headlong,  headstrong  English- 
man :  and  in  a  background  of  silence  and  poetry  lurks 
the  Brushwood  Girl,  singing  in  our  ears  the  haunting 
refrain  of  the  "  City  of  Sleep." 

In  "  They,"  one  of  the  most  wonderful  of  Kipling's 
short  stories,  he  has  treated  a  most  fascinating  subject : 
the  souls  of  dead  children.  To  judge  from  "  Wireless  " 
and  "  The  House  Surgeon,"  Kipling  is  rapidly  becoming 
a  kind  of  prose  Browning.  The  idea  of  the  story  is 
explained  in  the  versified  prologue  "  The  Return  of  the 
Children,"  little  mites  who  found  Heaven  too  large  and 
cold  for  their  immature  souls,  and  who  could  not  find 
any  joy  in  the  harps  and  crowns,  nor  "  the  cherubs' 
dove-winged  races." 

Eventually  release  is  obtained  through  "  Mary  the 
Mother,"  and  they  return  to  earth.  Such  ghosts  could 
not  return  to  their  parents,  for  ordinary  people  would 
not  perceive  them,  and  if  they  did,  they  would  be 
too  terrified  at  their  reappearance  in  astral  bodies  to 
receive  and  cherish  them  once  more. 

It  is  natural  that  "  They  "  should  be  attracted  by  the 
blind  woman.  Her  empty  spinster  life,  her  great  love 
for  children,  and  the  wonderful  second  sight  with  which 
all  blind  people  are  blessed,  are  things  which  have  taught 
this  mystical  woman  to  understand ;  so  God  sends  the 
souls  of  dead  children  who  wanted  to  come  homeward, 
to  her. 

167 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  two  letters  which 
appeared  in  ^,P.^s  Weekly  *  regarding  this  story,  which 
is  certainly  very  abstruse.  The  Blind  Woman  is  one  of 
the  most  mystical  characters  in  Kipling's  tales,  far  more 
so  than  "  The  Brushwood  Boy  "  or  Miriam. 

H.G.  writes : 

I  think  the  key  to  this  story  is  to  be  found  in  the  little  poem  *'  The 
Return  of  the  Children,"  which  precedes  it.  This  seems  to  suggest  that 
the  children  were  not  dream-children,  but,  to  use  a  very  expressive  term, 
"  revenants,"  i.e.  little  child-ghosts  who,  feeling  lonely  and  unhappy 
amid  the  splendours  of  heaven,  had  been  graciously  permitted  to  return 
in  spirit  to  the  earth  they  had  left  and  to  the  earthly  joys  so  dear  to  them — 
childish  fun  and  play,  and  human  love  and  sympathy.  They  were  attracted 
to  the  blind  lady's  home  by  her  great  love  of  children  and  her  passionate 
longing  for  their  society.  Moreover,  this  beautiful,  secluded,  old-world 
place  was  a  veritable  earthly  paradise  for  children.  There  are  various 
incidents  in  the  story  which  seem  to  discredit  the  idea  that  these  little 
beings  were  dream-children,  for  one  thing  the  fact  that  they  were  visible 
to  others  besides  the  dreamer  herself.  Her  visitor  had  caught  glimpses 
of  them  before  he  met  her  at  all,  and  they  were  so  real  to  him  that  it  was 
not  until  his  third  visit  that  he  discovered  that  they  were  not  creatures 
of  flesh  and  blood.  It  was  the  little  girl's  caress  that  revealed  the  truth 
to  him  in  a  flash.  The  "  little  brushing  kiss "  on  the  palm  of  his  hand 
was,  as  he  tells  us,  "  a  fragment  of  the  mute  code  devised  very  long  ago  " — 
a  love-token  from  a  long-lost  little  daughter.  In  a  moment  of  joy  and 
sorrow  intermingled  he  realized  what  these  children  were,  and  the  "  woman 
who  could  see  the  naked  soul "  at  once  became  aware  that  he  understood 
at  last. 

Here  is  another  view  of  the  story : 

The  children  are  not  "  dream-children "  but  little  ghosts.  Anyone 
who  has  lost  a  child  may  meet  its  little  spirit  in  the  blind  woman's  house. 
She,  childless  but  a  lover  of  children,  is  permitted  to  feel  and  hear  them 
near  her,  and  she  is  surprised  when  she  finds  that  her  visitor  can  see  them. 
She  knows  then  that  he  has  a  right  to  come  to  her  house.  If  they  are  not 
ghosts,  how  is  it  that  the  poor  woman  who  loses  a  child  while  the  visitor 
is  in  the  blind  woman's  house  can  afterwards  see  and  hear  the  children  ? 
Her  own  is  among  them.  Or,  if  they  are  merely  dream-children,  what 
is  the  explanation  of  the  fear  felt  by  the  man  who  is  rude  to  the  blind  woman 

*  February  6,  1914. 


t 


Photo  by\ 


[Hy.  Dixon  &■  Son 


RUDYARD  KIPLING 
By  the  Hon.  John  Collier 


"THE  BRUSHWOOD   BOY" 

over  some  question  of  rent,  and  who  refuses  to  enter  the  house  ?  If  I 
remember  right  (I  have  not  the  book  near  me),  at  the  end  of  the  story 
a  little  child's  ghost  kisses  the  visitor,  and  he  recognizes  it  for  one  he  has 
lost.  If  this  explanation  is  not  the  true  one,  and  the  empty  fancy  that 
"  They  "  are  dream-children  born  of  the  blind  woman's  dreams  is  correct, 
I  shall  feel  as  if  the  story  had  lost  all  its  charm.  It  is,  anyhow,  so  slight 
and  diaphanous  that  interpretations  seem  only  to  shatter  it. 

The  outline  of  the  story  is  simply  this : 

A  man  who  has  lost  a  very  dearly  loved  little  one,  for 
whom  he  is  always  fretting,  during  a  motor-car  run 
discovers  a  weather-worn  Elizabethan  house  at  the  end 
of  a  side  way  track,  which  at  first  appeared  to  lead  to 
nowhere  in  particular.  Here  he  meets  the  owner  of  the 
House  Beautiful,  a  childless  woman  who  has  gathered 
about  her  the  souls  of  dead  children. 

The  garden  seems  to  be  haunted  by  many  vague,  little 
melancholy  things,  and  the  stranger  only  dimly  com- 
prehending that  he  is  tampering  with  some  of  the  hidden 
laws  of  nature,  tries  to  allure  these  spirit  children. 
Moreover — a  most  pitiful  twilight  scene — the  man  finds 
his  own  dead  child.  Then  he  knows  that  he  must  not 
ever  return  again,  for  the  blood-bond  would  only  tend 
to  break  the  communion  between  the  blind  woman  and 
"  They."  It  was  only  through  her  perfect  and  unhuman 
love  that  the  Lost  Children  were  permitted  to  return. 

A  brilliant  little  survey  of  "  They  "  from  the  aspect 
of  a  symbolist  appeared  in  a  New  York  paper  shortly 
after  the  story  was  published  in  Scribners^  Magazine 
(August  1904).  I  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  this  in 
full: 

The  last  of  the  Rosicrucians  was  sitting  in  his  favourite  corner  of  the 
library,  reading  the  latest  scientific  news,  when  I  broke  in  on  his  seclusion. 

"  Have  you  read  '  They  '  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  have." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  most  wonderful  story  Rudyard  Kipling  has  ever  written — 
the  most  elemental  and  the  most  artistic." 

"  But  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

69 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

"  It  means  as  much  or  as  little  as  you  have  the  capacity  to  understand. 
Moreover,  judging  from  explanations  I  have  heard,  it  is  a  test  of  the  purity 
of  your  thought." 

"  Don't  be  Delphic,"  I  protested.  "  Remember  that  this  is  New  York 
in  the  twentieth  century.  Nevertheless,  if  your  knowledge  of  Trismegistus 
or  Albertus  Magnus  can  help  you  to  explain  '  They,'  I'll  try  to  listen 
patiently." 

"  But  you  must  tell  me  where  your  difficulty  lies.  To  me  the  little  tale 
is  wonderfully  simple." 

"  But  what  is  it  all  about  ?  " 

"  If  I  explain,"  said  the  Rosicrucian,  "  will  you  promise  not  to  quote 
Byron  and  ask  me  to  explain  my  explanation  ?  " 

I  gave  the  necessary  pledge,  and  our  club  mystic  proceeded  to  expound 
the  mystery. 

"  Like  all  tales  dealing  with  elemental  emotions,  *  They '  is  capable  of 
as  many  interpretations  as  it  has  readers.  For  his  text  the  poet — in  this 
story  he  is  more  the  poet  than  the  author — has  once  more  gone  to  the 
confessions  of  Agur,  the  son  of  Jakeh.  Of  the  *  three  things  that  are 
never  satisfied,  yea  four  things '  that  say  *  it  is  not  enough,'  he  has  chosen 
two,  the  grave  and  the  childless  woman.  You  who  know  the  world  know 
that  on  one  hand  it  is  full  of  mourners  for  children  who  went  down  to 
untimely  graves  and  on  the  other  with  lonely  women  who  mourn  with 
Jephthah's  daughter  because  they  are  not  mothers  in  Israel." 

"  Then  '  They '  are  the  souls  of  dead  children  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Exactly.  And  the  mother-love  of  a  childless  woman  has  gathered 
them  about  her.  To  make  this  possible  the  poet  has  drawn  on  his  won- 
derful knowledge  of  mysticism  to  build  a  phantasy  in  which  he  rights  an 
eternal  wrong — in  which  he  makes  the  victims  of  the  grave  satisfy  the 
yearnings  of  the  childless." 

"  But  what  is  the  meaning  of  all  that  talk  about  colours  and  '  the  Egg 
Itself  '  ?  " 

"  My  son,"  said  the  mystic  benignly,  "  if  you  have  never  seen  the  colours 
or  the  Egg  you  could  no  more  understand  an  explanation  of  them  than 
you  could  understand  the  properties  of  a  fourth  dimension  or  the  functions 
of  a  sixth  sense.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  colours  and  the  Egg  belong  to 
the  most  esoteric  mysteries  of  Oriental  philosophy  and  that  those  who 
have  knowledge  of  them  have  met  at  the  sources  of  life.  Only  by  ascribing 
to  his  hero  and  heroine  this  knowledge  could  the  poet  give  them  the  intimacy 
that  made  the  story  possible." 

"  But  what  is  the  story  ?  " 

"  It  is  this.  A  man  who  has  lost  a  dearly  loved  child  for  which  he  is 
ever  mourning  stumbles  on  the  home  of  a  childless  woman  whose  house 

70 


"THE   BRUSHWOOD   BOY" 

is  haunted  by  the  souls  of  children.  While  only  partly  understanding, 
he  tries  to  make  friends  with  the  children,  and  the  one  that  finally  comes 
to  him  is  his  own  lost  child*  Then  he  understands  and  knows  that  he 
must  come  no  more  to  the  House  Beautiful.  Neither  may  he  continue  to 
mourn,  for  the  one  he  has  lost  is  playing  an  unguessed  part  in  the  scheme 
of  things  and  is  happy  and  making  another  happy.  The  story  is  one  of 
solace  for  the  mourning." 

"  But  all  that  is  pure  superstition,"  I  protested. 

"  Quite  true  ;  and  is  not  the  world  as  full  of  superstition  to-day  as  ever 
it  was  ?  In  taking  a  bit  of  superstition  and  giving  it  an  up-to-date  setting 
Kipling  has  once  more  shown  his  wonderful  knowledge  of  life.  He  knows 
that  the  man  gifted  to  see  visions  can  see  them  from  a  motor-car  as  readily 
as  from  a  hermit's  cell,  and  he  knows  that  the  most  exact  scientific  knowledge 
can  be  found  cheek  by  jowl  with  the  most  dreamy  mediae valism.  If  the 
heroine  of  the  story  avoided  having  iron  on  her  hearth  lest  the  little  spirit 
should  not  come  to  her,  you  can  still  find  thousands  in  rural  England  who 
use  iron  to  fend  them  from  spirits.  You  may  remember  that  Grant  Allen 
made  striking  use  of  this  superstition  in  his  little  story  of  *  The  Round 
Tower.'  Taken  as  a  whole  the  story  is  one  of  exquisite  mysticism  in  an 
aggressively  up-to-date  setting." 

"  But  what  is  the  use  of  it  all  ?  " 

"  A  sufficient  answer  should  be  that  it  is  beautiful ;  but  if  you  seek  for 
more  you  must  ask  of  those  who  mourn  little  children  or  yearn  for  them." 

This  closed  our  interview,  and  as  I  passed  out  to  the  smoking-room  I 
remembered  that  the  poet  is  himself  a  mourner  and  that  perhaps  the  kiss 
on  the  hand  given  by  the  spirit-child  might  have  been  part  of  a  secret 
code  like  that  of  the  story — but  this  is  passing  the  decent  bounds  of  analytical 
criticism. 

Kipling  has  studied  his  children  as  he  has  studied  his 
sailormen,  his  animals,  his  soldiers.  One  of  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  his  child  studies  is  the  "  Story  of 
Muhammad  Din,"  and  it  reflects  the  author's  genuine 
love  of  the  little  ones.  In  this  pathetic  sketch  we  are 
introduced  to  the  very  small  son  of  Imam  Din,  the 
writer's  "  Khitmatgar."  The  child  requests  the  loan  of 
a  polo  ball  from  the  narrator,  which  leads  to  a  friendship 
which  is  carried  on  with  great  formality  on  both  sides. 
The  man  looks  forward  to  meeting  his  solemn  little 
friend,  and  when  the  child  sickens  and  dies  he  is  greatly 
grieved,  and  would  have  given  much  to  have  avoided 

71 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

the  parents  carrying  the  frail  little  body  to  the  burying- 
ground. 

There  are  few  of  us  who  can  follow  Muhammad  Din 
to  the  grave  ("  respectfully,  and  at  a  distance,  that  we 
may  not  intrude,")  and  not  feel  a  little  as  though  some- 
thing were  tugging  at  our  heartstrings  the  while.  Have 
we  not  all  at  some  time  understood  the  magic  of  those 
little  hands  that  fashion  houses  from  the  dust,  and 
gardens  from  dead  flowers  ?  The  loss  of  such  a  little 
one  is  a  bitter  thing  in  life,  and  Kipling  has  said  himself : 
"  People  say  that  that  kind  of  wound  heals.  It  doesn't. 
It  only  skins  over." 

At  first  blush  one  would  not  think  to  discover  in  Kip- 
ling's stories  a  certain  suggestion  of  womanly  tenderness. 
But  there  is  an  exquisitely  delicate  subcurrent  which  is 
suggestive  of  the  feminine  soul  in  all  his  child-sketches. 

There  are  few  living  authors  who  could  write  anything 
to  equal  "  Baa,  Baa,  Black  sheep,"  "  His  Majesty  the 
King,"  or  "  They."  He  who  seeks  to  disparage  or  laugh 
at  such  work  reveals  a  stratum  of  very  coarse  moral  clay 
in  his  cosmos. 

Only  women  [Kipling  says]  understand  children  properly ;  but  if  a 
mere  man  keeps  very  quiet  and  humbles  himself  properly,  and  refrains 
from  talking  down  to  his  superiors,  the  children  will  sometimes  be  good 
to  him  and  let  him  see  what  they  think  about  the  world. 

The  following  lines  which  have  not  been  published 
before  deserve  a  place  in  this  chapter.  They  were 
written  in  a  copy  of  "  Just-So  Stories,"  which  Kipling 
presented  to  a  little  friend : 

When  skies  are  grey  instead,  of  blue. 
With  clouds  which  come  to  dishearten. 
And  things  go  wrong  as  they  sometimes  do 
In  lifers  little  kindergarten. 
Pray,  my  child,  don't  weep  or  wail, 
And  don't,  don't  take  to  tippling, 
But  cheer  your  soul  with  a  little  tale 
By  neighbour  Rudyard  Kipling. 

72 


"THE   BRUSHWOOD   BOY" 

II 

What  shall  be  said  of  "  The  Disturber  of  Traffic  ?  " 
It  is  alarming  indeed  suddenly  to  chance  upon  this 
story  after  reading  the  poem  "  To  the  True  Romance," 
which  stands  as  a  prelude  to  "  Many  Inventions."  In 
this  awful  story  a  man  in  a  lighthouse,  who  begins  to 
see  streaks  in  the  water,  goes  mad,  and  conceives  the 
notion  that  the  streaks  are  due  to  shipping  traffic  in  the 
straits.  He  determines  to  lead  off  the  ships  in  another 
direction,  and  with  the  aid  of  buoys  and  red  lights,  he 
conveys  the  impression  that  the  channel  is  not  navigable. 

Kipling's  mental  process,  one  is  bound  to  confess, 
seems  to  run  at  its  best  in  the  abnormal.  In  some  tales 
his  antics  are  as  wild  as  the  devil's ;  he  dances  through 
the  pages  like  a  mad  magician.  His  best  work  has  been 
done  in  moments  of  cerebral  stimulation  that  do  not 
come  to  more  soberly  constructed  men.  He  is  clever  in 
the  exposition  of  the  gruesome — "  The  Mark  of  the 
Beast  "  is  possibly  one  of  the  most  ghastly  death-dance 
tales  in  our  literature.  If  Oscar  Wilde  had  written  it 
(but  I  am  afraid  he  could  not),  it  would  have  been 
paraded  as  the  limit  of  the  "  ghastly  artistic."  "  The 
Mark  of  the  Beast  "  and  that  other  ugly  story,  "  At  the 
End  of  the  Passage,"  were  written  before  Kipling  was 
out  of  his  teens. 

But  Kipling  is  cleverest  of  all  in  his  exposition  of 
madness.*  He  has  the  grip  and  the  power  in  the 
psychology  of  insanity  that  he  lacks  in  the  psychology  of 
the  sane.  One  can  see  this  by  the  flashes  of  insanity  in 
"  The  Man  who  Would  be  King  "  or  "  The  Madness  of 
Private  Ortheris."  No  one  can  deny  the  brilliancy  of 
his  vivid  representation  of  mental  moods ;  whether  you 
want  it  or  not,  you  have  the  full  horror  of  these  moods 

*  See   interesting    article    by   Ernest  Newman   in   the  Free   Review, 
December  i,  1893. 

73 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

impressed  upon  you  as  with  hot  irons.  Witness  this 
passage  from  "  The  Light  that  Failed  " — ''  The  mind 
was  quickened  and  the  revolving  thoughts  ground 
against  each  other,  as  millstones  grind  when  there  is  no 
corn  between."  Note,  too,  the  roving  craze  or  madness 
working  for  ever  on  the  overburdened  brain  of  the 
leading  character  in  this  novel. 

Often  his  work  contains  a  good  deal  of  hasty,  dogmatic 
impressionism,  but  his  literary  power  seems  to  pull  him 
through  in  the  end.  For  even  in  such  a  tale  as  "  At  the 
End  of  the  Passage  "  there  is  a  good  deal  of  pure  moon- 
shine. Perhaps,  however,  it  is  ill  work  quarrelling  with 
a  man  for  now  and  then  flying  in  the  face  of  facts  when 
he  thinks  the  pulse  of  the  reader  may  be  quickened  by 
subterfuge.  The  gist  of  the  tale  lies  in  the  fact  that  a 
camera  is  applied  to  the  eyes  of  a  dead  man  lying  in  a 
dark  rooniy  with  the  astonishing  result  of  getting  a  picture 
of  the  corpse's  retina.  The  image  on  the  retina  is  so 
horrible  that  the  photographer  destroys  the  negative,  and 
refuses  to  speak  about  it. 

It  has  been  hinted  that  phantoms  of  the  brain  hurried 
the  man  to  his  death,  but  even  if  the  netlike  expansion 
of  the  optic  nerve  retained  any  impressions  after  death, 
it  would  need  special  preparations  in  the  way  of  lighting 
to  gain  any  sort  of  picture  with  a  camera.  It  is  much 
more  likely  that  the  photographer  saw  that  his  efforts 
had  been  without  any  result,  and  to  evade  ridicule 
smashed  the  blank  plate  under  his  heel. 

There  is  admirable  art  in  "  The  Finest  Story  in  the 
World."  Note  the  delicate  manner  in  handling  this  tale 
so  that  the  figure  of  the  poor,  queer  bank-clerk — Oh, 
that  accursed  race  of  bank  clerks  ! — always  hovers  between 
the  squalor  of  a  Brixton  public-house  and  the  land  of 
tumultuous  dreams ;  the  story  always  wavers  in  the 
suggestive. 

The  psychological  solution  of  the  brilliancy  of  Kipling's 
work  in  this  direction  is  that  he  is  subject  to  moments 

74 


"THE   BRUSHWOOD   BOY" 

of  intense  cerebral  activity,  during  which  he  is  gifted 
with  a  certain  psychic  comprehension  of  mental  phases. 

There  has  been  some  difference  of  opinion  as  whether 
Kipling's  later  work  sustains  his  reputation.  He  would 
be  a  bold  critic  who  would  try  to  answer  that  question 
off-hand  and  with  sure  judgment.  But  it  is  certain  that 
Kipling  is  no  longer  the  idol  that  he  was.  The  turning- 
point  in  his  popularity  was,  I  think,  reached  when  he 
fell  upon  the  "  flannelled  fool  "  and  "  muddied  oaf  "  and 
scourged  them  with  the  heat  of  his  rhetoric.  Because 
he,  like  Gallio,  "  cared  for  none  of  these  things,"  and 
spoke  with  scorn  of  those  dullards,  who  never  even  play 
either  game,  his  protest  was  called  an  "  insult  to  national 
sport."  A  sport  that  largely  consists  of  smoking  cheap 
cigarettes  and  consuming  whiskey  and  soda  needed  the 
virile  censure  which  Kipling  hurled  at  it.  Then  again, 
he  had  dared  in  rather  rough  and  blustering  language  to 
tell  the  people  who  came  "  of  the  blood  "  a  few  bare 
truths  about  their  military  and  naval  inefficiency.  It 
was  after  these  things  that  the  Kipling  "  bloomings  " 
lost  their  first  bloom.  Even  the  Americans  who  were 
so  very  sharply  bitten  by  "  Kipling  fever  "  at  one  time 
are  now  joining  in  the  chorus  of  censure.  The  following 
passage  from  the  Bellman  (Minneapolis,  September  12, 
1 914)  cannot  be  accepted  as  an  impartial  judgment,  but 
it  does  show  that  Kipling  is  no  longer  elevated  to  the 
rank  of  a  demi-god  in  the  United  States : 

"  MR.  KIPLING'S  FEEBLE  EFFORT  " 

During  the  discussion  in  Canada  regarding  reciprocity  with  the  United 
States,  which  ended  in  the  vote  to  reject  the  friendly  trade  overtures  made 
by  this  country,  Rudyard  Kipling  did  not  endear  himself  to  the  American 
people  by  his  officious  and  contemptuous  attack  upon  them.  His  appeal 
to  the  Canadians,  in  which  he  spoke  of  their  neighbours  as  tricky  aliens 
with  whom  closer  trade  relations  would  assuredly  lead  to  contamination 
and  disloyalty,  was  the  talk  of  a  bitter  partisan,  who,  while  anxious  to 
sell  his  wares  to  Americans  and  very  glad  to  derive  the  profit  therefrom, 
was  unwilling  to  give  the  same  privilege  to  the  Canadian  farmer. 

75 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

Now,  when  Britain  needs  the  goodwill  of  the  United  States,  men  like 
Kipling  and  H.  G.  Wells,  who  also  has  written  scathingly  and  unjustly  of 
America,  are  anxious  to  appear  exceedingly  friendly  and  cordial.  Those 
Americans  who  are  not  possessed  of  short  memories  much  prefer  to  receive 
assurances  of  British  regard  from  sources  less  open  to  suspicion  of  insincerity 
than  these,  and  there  are  a  sufficient  number  of  them,  uncontaminated  by 
previous  displays  of  ill-mannered  prejudice,  to  preserve  intact  the  tradi- 
tional good  feeling  between  the  two  countries,  which  is  undoubtedly 
genuine.  In  the  present  emergency,  therefore,  it  would  be  better  if 
Bernard  Shaw,  Rudyard  Kipling,  and  H.  G.  Wells  confined  their  attempts 
to  influence  public  opinion  to  their  own  countrymen. 

While  Mr.  Kipling's  war  poem,  "  For  All  We  Have  and  Are,"  is  not, 
of  course,  addressed  to  the  American  people,  yet,  being  published  and 
copyrighted  in  America,  it  is  presumably  supposed  to  exert  some  influence 
upon  sentiment  in  this  country.  If  such  presumption  be  justified,  it  is 
fair  to  say  that  it  will  fail  of  its  intention. 

The  poem,  if  it  can  be  called  such,  is  a  most  lamentable  fall  from  the 
sustained  spiritual  level  of  the  inspired  "  Recessional,"  which  is  worthy 
to  rank  with  Kipling's  best  work.  It  might  be  imagined  that,  under 
stress  of  England's  present  solemn  and  great  emergency,  a  poet  might 
rise  to  sublime  heights  in  verse  that  would  stir  and  uplift  the  very  soul 
of  the  world.  But  this  example  is  Kipling  at  his  worst ;  a  mediocre  produc- 
tion, containing  no  thought  that  reaches  above  the  commonplace,  and 
set  to  an  easy,  jog-trot,  jingling  metre  that  would  admirably  suit  one 
of  Mother  Goose's  famous  melodies. 

though  all  we  made  defart, 

The  old  commandments  stand. 
In  patience  keep  your  heart ; 

In  strength  lift  up  your  hand. 

Any  fourth-rate  poet,  any  really  good  verbal  plumber,  can  write  yards 
of  such  verses,  and  would  feel  adequately  rewarded  by  seeing  his  production 
printed  in  the  poet's  corner  of  the  village  newspaper* 

^here  was  a  crooked  man. 

Who  went  a  crooked  mile. 
He  found  a  crooked  sixpence 

Against  a  crooked  stile, 

— is  equally  good  poetry.  Evidently  the  occasion  is  too  great  for  Mr. 
Kipling's  somewhat  winded  Pegasus  to  overtake,  and  it  remains  for  some 
English  poet  of  lesser  reputation  to  sound  the  true  uplifting  note  of  British 
inspiration  in  this  hour  of  solemn  national  import. 

76 


"THE   BRUSHWOOD   BOY'' 

Although  the  writer  of  the  above  article  is  somewhat 
blinded  hy  wrath  and  prejudice,  it  is,  nevertheless, 
interesting  to  see  how  Kipling's  latest  poem  was  regarded 
in  America.  I  think  that  the  Press  of  England  and 
America  are  agreed  that  Kipling's  "  For  All  we  Have 
and  Are  "  is  probably  the  poorest  poem  ever  written 
by  a  man  of  genius.  It  might  have  been  written  by 
Tennyson  in  one  of  his  most  stupid  moods. 

Kipling  has  frequently  attacked  the  United  States.  In 
San  Francisco  his  name  is  anathema,  and  they  still 
discuss  his  visit  to  the  city  and  the  sweeping  misstate- 
ments regarding  Californian  life  and  customs  he  gave  to 
the  world  in  "  From  Sea  to  Sea." 

A  well-known  American  professor  once  remarked  that 
Kipling  was  born  in  India,  came  to  his  promise  in 
America,  and  lost  himself  in  England.  On  the  other 
hand  Kipling  has  declared  that  Americans  have  never 
forgiven  him  for  not  dying  in  New  York  ;  and  all  their 
adverse  criticism  is  the  aftermath  of  his  one  mistake  in 
life. 


77 


CHAPTER  VI 
"FROM  SEA  TO  SEA" 

The  struggles  of  genius  in  quest  of  bread  and  cheese  :  The  morbid 
side  of  Kipling  :  Chicago  and  its  "  vermilion  hall "  :  The  Review 
of  the  Week  and  "  From  Sea  to  Sea  "  :  Holbrook  Jackson  on 
Kipling  :  The  shirker  and  the  loafer  :  Kipling's  desire  to  preach  : 
"  The  Benefactors  "  in  the  ISIational  Review. 


i 


Not  skilly  nor  books,  but  life  itself  is  the  foundation 
of  all  education. 


CHAPTER  VI 

"  FROM  SEA  TO  SEA  " 

The  struggles  and  artifices  of  genius  in  quest  of  its  bread 
and  cheese  are  frequently  a  somewhat  affecting  spectacle  ; 
and  we  may  well  understand  Kipling's  reluctance  to 
issue  his  old  newspaper  work  in  volume  form.  But  in 
1900  he  decided  on  this  course  in  order  to  check  the 
enterprise  of  the  thievish  publishers  who  roved  the  high 
seas  of  literature  in  search  of  loot.  It  was  an  evil  day 
that  forced  Kipling  who  had  written  ballads  salt  with 
the  brine  of  the  sea,  and  stories  salt  with  immortal  tears, 
to  turn  up  the  files  of  old  Indian  papers  to  present  a 
dish  made  of  pepper,  mustard,  and  vinegar,  to  a  critical 
public.  It  was  good  fortune  that  sent  him  to  see  the 
cities  and  learn  the  temper  of  many  people  in  his  early 
days,  but  it  was  bad  luck  to  be  forced  to  publish  the 
impressions  of  youth  many  years  afterwards.  The  frantic 
grabbing  for  the  saleable  "  goods,"  the  task  always 
before  him  of  turning  these  impressions  into  readable 
matter  at  so  much  a  column  for  English  people  in  India, 
deprives  this  work  of  much  of  the  author's  magic.  Of 
course  the  compulsion  of  having  to  serve  up  "  chunks  of 
life "  without  much  reflection  was  not  without  its 
advantages  ;  it  kept  the  raw  material  in  his  mind,  and 
gave  him  a  great  store  to  draw  on  and  work  up  into  the 
finished  product  of  such  volumes  as  "  Kim  "  or  "  The 
Seven  Seas." 

In  the  two  volumes  comprising  "  From  Sea  to  Sea," 
which  might  be  called  "  Kipling's  Odyssey,"  there  is  the 
realism  of  the  penny  dreadful  as  well  as  the  reflections 

F  81 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

of  an  elegant  writer,  with  all  the  airs  and  graces  of  prose 
at  his  command. 

At  times  Kipling  seems  to  take  a  fiendish  delight  in 
morbid,  bizarre  and  repulsive  detail.  The  interview 
with  the  undertaker  at  Omaha,  in  which  Kipling  dwells 
upon  the  mysteries  of  embalming  the  dead,  is  fitter  for 
the  columns  of  the  Police  Budget  than  a  noteworthy- 
volume  of  travel.  The  general  impression  produced 
after  reading  these  nightmare  notes  is  one  of  disgust, 
and  it  reads  no  better  for  being  garnished  with  a  vulgar 
and  flashy  scholarship.  Again,  take  the  description  of 
pig-sticking  and  the  shambles  of  Chicago :  the  mixture 
is  worse  than  medicinal,  and  cannot  be  taken  without  a 
grimace. 

He  leads  us  through  the  slums  of  the  City  of  Dreadful 
Night  in  company  of  the  Calcutta  police,  and  shows  us 
a  herd  of  fighting,  drinking  swine  running  down  a  steep 
place  to  their  doom.  The  material  in  this  chapter 
impresses  the  reader  with  one  idea :  that  it  is  a  terrible 
thing  to  be  a  journalist ;  how  it  must  warp  the  soul  of  a 
man  to  bring  to  every  petty  adventure  the  journalistic 
eye,  ever  bent  upon  the  business  aspect  of  them  ;  what 
a  distorted  vision  of  all  things  must  in  the  end  abide 
with  him. 

What  shall  be  said  of  Kipling's  sketch  of  how  he  struck 
Chicago,  and  the  description  of  how  the  cattle  are  killed 
in  that  city  ?  It  is  alarming,  indeed,  suddenly  to  chance 
upon  such  a  plutonian  nightmare,  and  I  defy  the  lord  of 
dreams  to  send  any  more  ghastly  death-dance  to  haunt 
our  mortal  sleep. 

Kipling  as  the  painter  of  such  blood  scenes  owes 
his  success  to  the  fact  that,  while  we  had  at  that  time 
thrust  personal  physical  warfare  almost  out  of  our  own 
lives,  there  was  still  enough  primitive  hellishness  in 
us  to  leave  us  fascinated  with  the  recitals  of  torture. 
How  far  cattle-slaughter  is  a  legitimate  subject  for 
art,  and  how  far  a  writer  may  go  in  his  dependence 
82 


"FROM    SEA   TO   SEA'' 

upon  that  ineradicable  instinct  which  makes  suffering 
interesting  to  us,  are  questions  not  easily  to  be  answered 
with  precision ;  but  there  can  be  no  question  that 
Kipling  carries  the  passion  too  far.  He  does  not  even 
try  to  soothe  the  tiger-instinct  in  us  that  makes  us 
read  the  noisome  detail  of  this  chapter  with  interest. 
He  introduces  no  feeling  of  pity ;  the  soul  of  the  reader 
is  seared  and  there  is  nothing  to  heal.  He  seems  to 
delight  in  the  mere  portrayal  of  the  suffering  of  the 
cattle.  Take  as  one  or  two  examples  out  of  many,  his 
description  of  how  the  pigs  are  suspended  by  their  legs 
on  a  kind  of  overhead  railway  of  death,  while  "  a  red 
man  with  a  knife  "  jauntily  slits  their  throats,  and  the 
blood  afterwards  falls  like  heavy  tropical  rain.  Or  the 
flippant  way  he  speaks  of  how  the  terrified  animals 
"  shrieked  and  called  on  their  mothers  "  when  they 
caught  sight  of  the  big  kitchen  sink  that  was  blood  red. 
Interested  as  we  are  in  the  descriptions,  we  feel  that  our 
humanity  is  being  debased.  Every  noisome  detail  is 
drawn  out  and  emphasized :  "  the  pig  men  were 
spattered  with  blood,  the  cow  butchers  were  bathed  in 
it.  .  .  .  The  blood  ran  in  muttering  gutters  .  .  .  and 
the  stench  of  it  in  the  nostrils  bred  fear." 

The  introduction  of  the  "  embodiment  of  the  city  of 
Chicago  "  in  the  form  of  a  woman  in  this  "  vermilion 
hall  "  is  a  bizarre  experiment.  We  are  told  that  women 
came  sometimes  to  see  this  ghastly  spectacle,  and  Kipling 
describes  an  encounter  with  a  young  woman  with  scarlet 
lips  and  the  "  attire  of  a  harlot  "  (to  use  the  words  of 
the  author  of  the  Proverbs)  who  looked  upon  these 
things  with  hard,  bold  eyes  and  was  not  ashamed. 

Part  of  a  review  of  "  From  Sea  to  Sea  "  which  appeared 
in  the  Review  of  the  Week  (March  24,  1900)  is  here 
quoted  that  the  reader  may  judge  the  prevalent  attitude 
of  the  Press  on  the  publication  of  these  volumes : 

To  read  these  two  volumes  on  end  is  very  like  taking  a  great  overdose 
of  a  narcotic  or  a  stimulant  which  we  have  accustomed  ourselves  to  take 

83 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

without  harm  in  small  doses.  We  are  used  to  taking  our  newspaper  poison 
in  small  doses ;  it  may,  like  tobacco,  divert  our  attention  from  the  uneasiness 
of  digesting  our  breakfast ;  it  may  serve  to  prevent  the  pangs  of  thinking 
during  an  enforced  respite,  on  a  railway  journey  for  example,  from  work 
or  play.  Here  are  two  volumes  of  newspaper  articles,  "  bright,"  "  smart," 
"  snappy,"  and  "  brainy  "  newspaper  articles,  in  a  lump  ;  and  the  effect 
of  taking  them  in  a  lump  is  as  though  a  man  should  smoke  forty  cigars 
or  drink  forty  cups  of  tea  at  a  sitting.  We  advise  our  readers  to  be  content 
with  two  or  three  of  them  at  a  time.  Mr.  Kipling  was,  indeed,  the  very 
paragon  of  journalists :  not  one  of  his  cleverest  pupils,  not  the  late  G.  W. 
Steevens,  nor  Mr.  Winston  Churchill  can  come  near  him  in  the  art  of 
serving  up  a  raw  impression  of  the  outwardness  of  things,  and  decking  out 
a  guess  at  their  inwardness  with  every  circumstance  of  plausibility.  The 
volumes  are  full  of  descriptions  laboured  to  the  fullest  limits  of  the  cheap 
picturesque ;  the  flights  of  cheapness,  in  cheap,  fine  writing,  rise  to  the 
very  ceiling ;  and  when  Mr.  Kipling  wishes  to  be  emphatic — and,  alas  ! 
he  wishes  it  often — he  uses  the  word  "  hell  "  in  the  manliest  way  :  we  have 
never  before  come  upon  it  so  often  except  in  a  tract.  But  for  all  the  glaring 
defects  in  these  two  volumes,  Mr.  Kipling  is  a  great  man,  and  they  are 
relieved  by  many  good  things,  by  many  things  finely  observed. 

For  the  beginning  of  Mr.  Kipling's  "  Odyssey  "  we  care  very  little  ;  the 
"  Letters  of  Marque,"  as  he  calls  them,  deal  with  his  wanderings  in  Raj- 
putana.  They  are  full  of  information  of  the  kind  which  clogs  the  mind  with 
details  of  very  little  value  ;  and  the  best  of  it  is  the  appreciative  account 
of  the  manner  in  which  Englishmen  devote  their  lives  to  native  States, 
and  the  good  work  they  do,  and  occasional  information  about  native  customs. 
There  are  many  descriptions  of  scenery,  of  cities  living  and  dead,  and  of 
palaces ;  they  are,  for  the  most  part,  like  ohe  another,  and  one  suffers 
the  boredom  of  the  sightseer.  At  this  stage  in  his  wanderings,  too,  he 
writes  of  what  he  sees  with  the  journalistic  straining  of  the  note  in  the 
rhetorical  effort  to  impress  almost  continuous  racking  of  the  language  for 
the  striking  word.  We  grow  very  tired,  too,  of  the  details  of  his  journeys, 
and  of  the  frequent  thin  humour  with  which  they  are  told. 

"  From  Sea  to  Sea,"  written  two  years  later,  shows  a  great  advance. 
Mr.  Kipling  had  got  a  firmer  grip  on  things,  and  a  greater  power  of  handling 
them.  The  faults  of  the  journalist  are  fewer,  and  the  good  things  are 
more  numerous.  Possibly,  too,  the  new  things  that  he  saw  impressed  him 
more  deeply  than  the  things  of  India,  to  which  he  was  used,  and  the  reflec- 
tions which  he  gives  of  his  impressions  are  therefore  more  vivid.  His 
wanderings  in  Burmah,  the  Straits  Settlements,  are  genuinely  interesting 
in  small  doses — and  the  horror  and  loathing  with  which  Canton  and  its 
inhabitants  inspired  him  read  entirely  genuine  and  impressive.    His  account 

84 


"FROM    SEA   TO   SEA" 

of  Japan,  again,  is  very  good  reading  ;  and  we  feel  that  he  probably  drew 
from  his  stay  in  that  country  more  profit  than  from  all  the  rest  of  his 
wanderings. 

When  Mr.  Kipling  tells  us  of  America  he  grows  indeed  delightful.    That 
Americans  will  find  him  delightful  we  have  very  little  hope ;  we  think  it 
a  good  thing  that  he  is  in  South  Africa  far  from  his  Vermont  home,  and 
we  fancy  that  the  West  of  that  great  continent  will  not  be  trodden  by  him 
for  some  time.    Coming  from  Anglo-Indian  society,  in  which  manners 
have  not  perished,  and  fresh  from  the  dignity  of  the  East,  he  found  the 
customs  of  the  average  Western  American  disgusting.    He  sets  forth, 
and  falls  foul  of  their  spitting,  shooting  and  drinking,  their  conceit,  self- 
assertiveness  and  casualness,  with  all  the  vigour  of  an  entirely  honest  and 
admirable  indignation.    He  tells  us  little  that  we  have  not  heard  before, 
but  he  drives  it  home  with  amazing  force.    His  disquisition  on  the  first 
and  last  principles  of  American  politics  drives  many  more  nails  into  the 
coffin  of  that  ruinous  sophism,  imported  from  France  and  worked  up  in 
Manchester,  that  the  masses  are  the  people  ;  and  his  conclusions  are  summed 
up  in  the  words  :   "  Scores  of  men  have  told  me  with  no  false  pride  that 
they  would  as  soon  concern  themselves  with  the  public  affairs  of  the  city 
or  State  as  rake  muck."    His  description  of  the  persons  who  do  concern 
themselves  with  these  public  affairs  is  as  trenchant  as  it  is  lucid.    He  shows 
an  extraordinary  ability  for  pumping  people,  or  rather,  for  turning  on  the 
tap  and  letting  the  American  empty  himself  ;  man  after  man  comes  to  him 
and  lays  bare,  almost  with  ostentation,  the  moral  nakedness  of  the  land  ; 
and  he  even  extracts  from  the  female  typewriter  her  honest  feeling  about 
the  work  which  emancipates  her  from  dependence  on  man  and  makes  her 
a  free  woman :   "  Yes,  I  don't  care.    I  hate  it — I  hate  it — I  hate  it,  and 
you  needn't  look  so  !  "    The  Ethiopian  in  the  process  of  changing  his  skin 
impresses  him  no  more  than  the  popular  preacher  ;  he  finds  him  the  Ethio- 
pian still,  a  savage,  the  huhshi,  the  woolly  one.    At  a  popular  church  in 
Chicago  he  chanced  upon  "  a  revelation  of  barbarism  complete,"  a  preacher 
who  "  exploited  "  his  God  "  very  much  as  a  newspaper  reporter  would 
exploit  a  foreign  potentate  "  ;   with  "  a  voice  of  silver  and  with  imagery 
borrowed  from  the  auction-room,  he  built  up  for  his  hearers  a  heaven  on 
the  lines  of  Palmer  House  (but  with  all  the  gilding  real  gold  and  all  the 
plate-glass  diamond),  and  set  in  the  centre  of  it  a  loud-voiced,  argumen- 
tative, and  very  shrewd  creation  that  he  called  God,"  a  veritable  apotheosis 
of  the  business  man ;  and  he  sums  up  this  business  religion :   "  Yet  that 
man,  with  his  brutal  gold  and  silver  idols,  his  hand-in-pocket,  cigar-in- 
mouth,  and  hat-on-the-back  style  of  dealing  with  the  sacred  vessels,  would 
count  himself  spiritually  quite  competent  to  send  a  mission  to  convert  the 
Indians." 

8s 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Vigorously  as  he  denounces  their  faults,  he  praises  their  virtues  with 
an  even  greater  vigour.  Their  patriotism  above  everything  seems  to  have 
touched  him.  "  They  believe  in  their  land  and  its  future,  and  its  honour 
and  its  glory,  and  they  are  not  ashamed  to  say  so.  From  the  largest  to 
the  least  runs  this  same  proud,  passionate  conviction,  to  which  I  take  off 
my  hat  and  for  which  I  love  them." 

Perhaps  some  of  the  remarks  in  the  above  review  are 
not  very  original ;  it  is  very  hard  to  say  anything  original 
about  genius,  and  still  harder  to  say  anything  original 
about  such  a  many-sided  man  as  Kipling.     But  these 
sidelights  on  the  man,  culled  from  the  Press,  will  convince 
many  readers  that  he  certainly  is  a  variation  from  the 
ordinary  type,   and   variation   often   implies   excess   of 
psychic  comprehension.     It  is  to  such  men  that  we  owe 
the  inspiring  spectacle  of  human  individuality  ;  it  is  not 
for  commonplace  people  like  ourselves  to  rush  in,  or 
break  the  fetters  of  convention  ;   we  leave  that  to  such 
sturdy  specimens  of  individuality  as  Rudyard  Kipling. 
As  Kipling  once  remarked,  the  average  Englishman  has 
a  tendency  to  drop  into  a  certain  groove  and  stop  there 
without  thinking  about  the  desirability  of  getting  out. 
"  There  exists,"  he  says,  "  an  England  which,  ruined  by 
excess  of  comfort,  has  gone  to  sleep  and,  because  it 
snores  loudly,  believes  that  it  is  thinking."     If  there  is 
one  kind  of  person  whom  we  ought  to  reverence  and 
admire  more  than  any  other,  it  is  the  man  with  an  excess 
of  organic  force,  who  comes  to  point  out  that  things  are 
not  what  they  seem,  and  that  the  soul  of  a  nation  is  too 
vast  and  too  many-sided  to  be  cramped  for  ever  in  the 
fetters  of  convention.     If  I  have  succeeded  in  carrying 
the  honest  reader  with  me  thus  far,  he  will  surely  be 
kind  enough  to  come  a  little  further  in  my  company, 
and  to  accept  without  further  argument,  that  Kipling, 
the  invincibly  contrariwise,  is  also  in  his  own  way  to  be 
admired  as  an  independent  effusion  of  nature. 

That  Kipling  is  a  genius  nobody  needs  to  be  told,  and 
even  his  most  vehement  detractors  will  not  dispute  him 
86 


"FROM    SEA   TO    SEA" 

the  title.  Unfortunately  for  himself  he  has  pushed  his 
genius  very  hard  in  the  political  world,  and  at  times  he 
becomes  so  obviously  forced  that  one  feels  a  momentary 
annoyance  at  him.  These,  hov^ever,  are  rare  moments  ; 
and  when  he  means  to  make  real  magic  he  succeeds  nine 
times  out  of  ten.  One  cannot  mistake  the  passionate 
conviction  in  his  writings — conviction  at  a  white  heat  of 
emotion.  It  is  not  necessary  to  agree  with  Kipling's 
point  of  view — though  it  is  now  the  predominant  one  in 
the  Empire — to  recognize  the  intensity  of  feeling  which 
pours  itself  into  his  appeals  to  the  British  race.  As 
Holbrook  Jackson  has  remarked  : 

There  is  nothing  blatant  or  shoddy  about  such  aspirations,  and  the 
poet  is  equally  conscious  that  such  an  Empire  as  ours  has  not  been  brought 
into  being  without  error  : 

Tea,  though  we  sinned, — and,  our  rulers  went  from  righteousness. 
Deep  in  all  dishonour  though  we  stained  our  garment's  hem. 

Oh,  he  ye  not  dismayed  ; 

Though  we  stumbled  and  we  strayed, 
We  were  led  by  evil  counsellors — the  Lord  shall  deal  with  them. 

Much  of  Kipling's  verse  and  prose  is  devoted  to  a 
passionate  protest ;  frankly,  fearlessly  denouncing  the 
shirker  and  the  loafer  ;  and  the  rich  loafer  he  despises 
more  than  the  poor  loafer.  Kipling  looks  upon  any  man 
who  withholds  his  service  from  the  Empire  as  a  loafer  ; 
he  is  a  loafer.  Nothing  more  can  be  said  of  him,  and 
nothing  worse  ! 

An  Arabic  proverb  from  his  "  New  Army  in  Training  " 
expresses  his  point  of  view  of  the  shufflers  who  have 
failed  to  lend  their  strong  arms  in  the  Great  Adventure 
in  France  and  Belgium  : 

To  excuse  oneself  to  oneself  is  human ;  but  to  excuse  oneself  to  one's 
children  is  hell. 

Like  Pitt  and  Disraeli,  Kipling  sometimes  has  felt 
despair  as  to  his  country's  habit  of  muddling  through. 

87 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

In  these  fits  of  hopelessness  he  forgot  all  about  art  and 
literature,  and  turned  his  attention  to'  preaching.  He 
felt  that  he  must  preach.  His  eagerness  to  weld  all 
parties  into  a  definite  British  idealism  received  rude 
checks,  but  the  jeers  of  the  mob  did  not  weaken  his 
convictions.  Somewhere  in  the  soul  of  every  man, 
however  unecclesiastical  his  inclinations  may  be,  there  is 
hidden  a  surreptitious  desire  to  preach  to  his  fellow 
creatures.  The  temptation  to  fall  upon  the  shirker  and 
the  excuse-maker,  and  scourge  them  with  the  heat  of 
his  rhetoric,  become  irresistible.  The  tendency  to  preach 
had  always  been  with  Kipling :  we  find  it  in  "  Depart- 
mental Ditties  "  ;  in  the  passionate  protest  of  his  poem 
"  Cleared,"  and  the  note  of  the  homilist  became  marked 
in  the  "  Jungle  Books."  Kipling's  sermons  were  forged 
white  hot  on  the  anvil  of  conviction,  and  they  were 
immediate  and  vital  in  their  appeal.  To  be  sure,  con- 
viction does  not  make  poetry ;  neither  alone  does 
passion  ;  but  the  union  of  the  two  with  a  great  theme 
to  inspire  them  ought  to  produce  something  high  and 
fine,  and  one  is  not  at  a  loss  to  find  this  conjunction  in 
Kipling's  work. 

There  is  a  phrase  used  by  Kipling  in  another  connexion 
which  might  well  be  applied  to  his  Muse.  It  is  "  A 
watertight,  fireproof,  angle-iron,  sunk-hinge,  time  lock, 
steel  face  Imperial  mind  " — nothing  extenuating,  nothing 
ashamed  of  its  beliefs,  of  which  the  chief  is  that  "  at  the 
last  great  fight  of  all.  Our  House  will  stand  together  and 
the  pillars  will  not  fall." 

Yet  he  is  always  conscious  of  the  tragic  bill  we  have 
had  to  foot  for  our  Empire.  This  mind  that  has  at  once 
so  much  common  sense,  and  so  deep  a  sense  of  honesty, 
knows  full  well  the  tragic  cost  paid  by  our  conquering 
race : 

If  blood  he  the  price  of  admiralty y 

If  blood  be  the  price  of  admiralty , 

Lord  God,  we  ha^  paid  it  in  ! 

88 


"FROM    SEA   TO   SEA" 

In  the  above  lines  there  is  nothing  soothing.  We  feel 
the  pathos  of  such  sacrifice,  but  Kipling  goes  further, 
and  in  his  jubilant  song  he  teaches  us  to  feel  the  grandeur 
of  it.  Who  could  suggest  an  approved  alteration  in 
arrangement  or  diction  in  that  noblest  of  poems  "  A  Song 
of  the  English  "  ?  What  music,  pathos,  majesty,  and 
triumph  !  What  solemn  dignity  of  recitative !  As 
Holbrook  Jackson  has  v^ritten  : 

In  spite  of  his  austerity  and  his  undoubted  sense  of  responsibility, 
patriotism  for  him  is  but  a  new  way  of  spelling  romance.  Imperialism  is 
the  great  adventure,  the  Empire  a  new  Avalon.  ... 

Yet  Kipling  sometimes  offends  against  taste  by  his 
sv^aggering  and  yelling.  In  his  attempts  to  be  impressive 
he  is  occasionally  distressing.  It  is  because  he  is  v^eighted 
with  a  mission,  and  the  missionary  and  the  poet  are 
sometimes  inclined  to  alternate  instead  of  uniting. 
When  he  is  preaching  about  coal  strikes,  v^e  can  only 
v^ait  v^ith  more  or  less  patience  till  his  vast  imagination 
glows  with  thoughts  of  the  new  romance  or  the  "  new 
army."  And  yet  there  are  Kiplingites  who  would 
defend  even  such  stuff  as  "  The  Benefactors,"  which 
appeared  in  the  National  Review  (July  191 2). 

The  paper  opens  with  two  stanzas  which  declare  that  all  power,  whether 
tyrant  or  mob,  which  suffers  from  swelled  head,  ends  by  destroying  its 
own  job,  while  man,  whose  mere  necessities  sweep  all  things  from  his  path, 
is  foolish  enough  to  shiver  at  the  decrees  of  these  inflated  and  evanescent 
powers.  Then  comes  the  sketch.  The  scene  is  laid,  with  a  sort  of  grotesque 
attempt  at  the  low  buffoonery  of  the  dramshop,  in  Hades,  and  the  narrative 
continually  harps  upon  the  hoary,  not  to  say  mouldy,  pleasantries  about 
burning  coal  and  stoking  up  the  fires.  A  succession  of  characters  is  intro- 
duced. A  man  with  a  shadow  of  a  rudimentary  tail  recalls  how  he  was 
the  strongest  of  the  primitive  community,  and  hit  and  bit  the  rest  until 
they  did  what  he  wanted.  Then  some  one  found  he  could  throw  a  stone, 
and  killed  him.  Next  the  stone-thrower  tells  how  he  became  chief,  until 
some  one  discovered  the  bow  and  arrow,  and  his  day  was  over.  He  was 
circumvented  by  one  who  invented  armour.  The  man  in  armour  was  in 
his  turn  overthrown  by  the  discoverer  of  gunpowder.    Then  a  Pope  laments 

89 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

that  the  discovery  of  the  printing-press  upset  his  power.  Then  enters 
what  Kipling  apparently  wishes  to  be  regarded  as  the  leader  of  the  coal- 
miners'  strike.  Evidently  Kipling  has  never  met  any  of  the  leaders  of  the 
coal-miners  of  this  country,  from  the  Right  Hon.  Thomas  Burt  to  Vernon 
Hartshorn.  Having  no  knowledge  of  their  character  or  speech,  he  brings 
out  of  his  repository  of  puppets  one  of  the  vulgarest  Cockneys  that  even  his 
imagination  can  invent.  He  represents  this  creature  as  glorying  in  having 
done  what  none  of  his  predecessors  had  done — brought  the  whole  com- 
munity to  its  knees  by  starving  or  freezing  them  into  submission.  Even 
before  he  has  finished  his  boasting  he  finds  himself  beset  by  the  children 
who  had  been  starved  to  death  in  the  strike,  the  men  that  had  been  driven 
to  suicide,  the  girls  who  had  been  ruined,  and  so  on.  Then,  in  keeping  with 
Kipling's  idea  of  humour,  there  enters  his  Satanic  Majesty,  "  clothed  in 
coolest  white  ducks,  with  white-covered  yachting  cap  and  creamy-white 
pipe-clayed  shoes,  so  that  he  looked  not  unlike  Captain  Kettle."  Then  he 
informs  the  blustering  "  honest  Pete  "  (the  miners'  leader)  that  the  strike 
has  taught  men  to  do  without  coal.  The  community  "  didn't  like  dying, 
so  they  rooted,  and  coal  and  steam  went  pungo,  Pete."  The  same  sable 
intelligence  declares  that  the  old  prophecy  is  fulfilled  that  "  democracy 
came  in  with  steam  and  will  go  out  with  it."  The  effusion  ends  by  the  devil 
bidding  Pete  hustle  into  "  that  starboard  bunker."  "  There  are  at  present 
280  million  tons  of  coal  in  Great  Britain  alone,  for  which  no  one  except 
ourselves  has  any  use." 


90 


CHAPTER  VII 
. "  KIM  " 

A  brief  outline  of  "  Kim  "  :  Sir  Edwin  Arnold's  interpretation  of 
the  fifth  book  of  the  "  Bhagavad-Gita  ""  :  Kim's  prototype  :  Sir 
Francis  Younghusband  on  the  Tibetans  :  The  ways  of  the  Indian 
Secret  Service. 


When  a  man  who  wishes  to  reform  the  world  takes  it 

in  handy  I  perceive  that  there  will  he  no  end  to  it. 

spiritual  vessels  are  not  fashioned  in  the  world. 

Whoever  makes  destroys,  zvhoever  grasps  loses. 


CHAPTER  VII 

"  KIM  " 

The  publication  of  "  Kim  "  marks  in  every  way  the 
finest  and  fullest  output  of  Kipling's  maturity.  In  point 
of  expression  and  thought  it  is,  perhaps,  a  greater 
achievement  than  the  "  Jungle  Books."  "  Captains 
Courageous,"  "The  Light  that  Failed,"  and  "The 
Naulakha  "  cannot  be  mentioned  in  the  same  breath. 
Kipling  had  at  this  time  reached  the  zenith  of  his  fame. 
In  1889  he  v^as  famous.  In  1892  he  flung,  with  lavish 
generosity,  the  treasures  of  his  genius  into  the  lap  of  the 
reader  of  "  Barrack  Room  Ballads."  After  that  the 
world  continued  to  gasp  at  Kipling  for  some  years.  He 
had  absorbed  India.  Wherever  the  English  speech  was 
spoken  or  read,  his  poems  and  stories  had  taken  a  high 
place.  There  was  not  a  hill-post  in  India  nor  a  town  in 
England  where  there  was  not  a  coterie  to  whom  Rudyard 
Kipling  was  a  familiar  friend  and  a  bond  of  union.  In 
America  he  had  also  an  equal  following,  in  many  regions 
and  conditions. 

Yet  his  complete  novels  had  fallen  a  little  flat  when 
compared  with  his  short  stories.  Some  spiteful  critics 
put  the  question,  "  Can  Kipling  hold  his  own  as  a  novel 
writer  ?  "  They  asked  why  his  short  stories  were  so 
much  more  satisfactory  in  the  way  of  art  and  why  he 
could  not  master  the  architectonics  of  the  novel.  "  The 
Light  that  Failed  "  had  been  labelled  in  some  quarters 
"  The  Book  that  Failed  "  ;  "  The  Naulakha,"  it  had  been 
pointed  out,  contained  all  the  baser  forms  of  journalese, 
and  "  Captains  Courageous "  had  met   with    pointed 

93 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

and  definite  criticism,  not  only  from  the  fishermen  of 
Gloucester,  Mass.,  but  from  literary  men.  It  was 
hinted  that  the  preacher  who  wrote  the  "  Recessional," 
the  author  of  the  wonderful  "  Jungle  Books,"  the  dreamer 
of  dreams  with  a  genius  for  guessing  the  true  meanings 
of  them,  could  not  produce  a  great  novel.  That  he  was 
unable  to  combine  things  seen  and  could  not  give  a  long 
story  that  inevitable  continuity  and  vital  rotundity 
which  turns  a  succession  of  episodes  into  the  "  Whole  of 
Life."  But  such  reproaches  were  soon  wiped  out,  for 
Kipling  deliberately  accepted  the  challenge  of  the 
cavillers.  He  answered  his  critics  with  a  courteous  and 
alluring  document.  The  answer  is  "  Kim,"  and  I  fancy 
that  Kipling  could  not  have  made  a  better  one.  It  is 
not  easy  to  determine  whether  the  record  of  the  Secret 
Service  of  India  be  fact  or  fiction,  history  or  parable, 
fairy  tale  or  sermon.  But  it  must  be  admitted  that  it 
is  a  subject  eminently  suited  to  the  author's  talent ;  he 
has  lavished  on  it  his  best  workmanship,  and  was  no 
doubt  greatly  aided  by  his  father,  Mr.  Lockwood  Kipling. 
The  characters  taking  part  in  the  "  Great  Game  "  are 
drawn  with  a  careful  and  loving  pen.  The  Babu, 
Hurree  Chunder,  is  a  marvel,  though  Kipling,  with  his 
instinct  for  heightening  the  effect  of  this  portrait,  has 
made  his  contrasts  a  little  forced  ;  the  Babu  requires 
sub-tones  and  sidelights  on  his  delightful  personality. 
But  the  Lama  is  the  most  benign  and  lovable  figure  in 
the  book ;  into  this  character  the  author  has  poured 
the  depths  of  his  sympathy.  The  Afghan  horse-dealer, 
Lurgan,  "  The  Healer  of  Sick  Pearls,"  and  ''  The  Woman 
of  Shamlegh,"  who  is  said  to  be  Lispeth  of  "  Plain 
Tales  from  the  Hills,"  are,  too,  all  characters  to  whom 
we  are  sorry  to  say  good-bye  when  the  book  is  finished. 

Kimball  O'Hara — commonly  called  Kim — is  an  orphan, 
the  offspring  of  an  Irish  soldier  who  died  of  opium  and 
drink.  The  child  is  stranded  and  alone  in  India,  and 
his  only  friend  is  Mahbub  AH,  a  hard-grained  blustering 

94 


"KIM" 

horse-dealer,  who  places  great  trust  in  him.  His  only 
inheritance  seems  to  be  his  birth  certificate  sewn  into  a 
leather  amulet  case,  with  the  legend  of  an  Indian  woman 
who  had  lived  with  his  father,  that  one  day  in  his  life  a 
red  bull  on  a  green  field,  a  colonel,  and  nine  hundred 
"  first-class  devils  "  will  be  revealed  to  him. 

In  the  magic  circle  in  which  the  players  of  "  The 
Game  "  move,  the  horse-dealer  is  known  as  C.25,  LB., 
trusted  secret  agent  of  the  Indian  Government. 

The  story  opens  with  the  meeting  of  Kim  with  a 
Tibetan  Lama,  who  is  making  a  sacred  journey  through 
India  in  the  hope  of  discovering  the  source  of  the  "  River 
of  the  Arrow,"  which  washes  away  all  taint  and  speckle 
of  sin.  We  can  almost  see  the  saintly  old  Lama  as  the 
author  sketches  him.  See  !  There  he  goes  !  A  gentle 
old  fellow  in  long  habit  of  dingy  cloth  not  unlike  horse- 
blanketing,  his  rosary,  that  has  clicked  millions  of  times 
to  Om  mane  fadme  om,  clutched  in  those  long,  stiff, 
yellow  fingers,  his  eyes  half-closed  beneath  the  grotesque 
horn-rimmed  spectacles,  and  turned  up  at  the  corners 
"  like  slits  of  onyx."  Everybody  will  endorse  the  horse- 
coper's  brief  appraisement  of  Red  Hat  at  the  end  of  the 
book :  *'  I  am  not  altogether  of  thy  faith  .  .  .  but  I 
can  still,  as  the  saying  is,  see  holiness  beyond  the  legs  of 
a  horse.  ...  I  call  thee  a  good  man — a  very  good  man." 

The  Lama  drew  the  boy  to  him  partly  by  bands  of 
love,  and  partly  because  the  child  had  never  seen  any- 
thing like  the  yellow  and  wrinkled  old  man  before.  A 
seeker  after  that  place  where  fell  the  Arrow  "  walking  in 
humility,  as  an  old  man,  wise  and  temperate,  illumining 
knowledge  with  brilliant  insight,"  the  Lama  appealed  to 
the  veritable  imp's  better  nature.  With  that  spon- 
taneous flow  of  pity  inherent  in  Irish  blood,  Kim  decides 
to  shield  and  support  the  friendless  old  man. 

They  take  the  road  together,  Kim  begging  food  with 
skill  and  much  cunning,  and  the  holy  man  bestowing 
his  wisdom  with  lavish  generosity  on  all  and  sundry 

95 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

whom  they  meet.  As  they  wander  in  leisurely  fashion, 
Mahbub  Ali  makes  use  of  Kim  to  carry  to  Umballa  a 
closely  folded  tissue  paper.  When  he  has  delivered  the 
note  to  Colonel  Creighton,  the  head  of  the  service,  he 
hides  outside  the  house,  and,  by  a  judicious  use  of  his 
eyes  and  ears,  discovers  that  the  message  is  a  call  to  arms 
for  the  purpose  of  putting  down  a  rising  in  the  north. 
Kim  was  no  ordinary  boy,  and  after  mixing  with  the 
Faquirs  in  Lahore  city  for  thirteen  years  he  understood 
this  information  might  prove  to  be  of  great  value  to 
him.  The  Lama  and  Kim  resume  their  journey,  and 
the  latter  soon  turns  his  information  to  good  account. 
Kim  copied  the  bearing  and  manner  of  the  clever 
Faquirs,  and  went  about  prophesying  a  great  war  with 
guns  and  redcoats.  He  gave  the  exact  number  of  troops 
which  were  to  be  used,  as  he  had  heard  it  when  he  hid 
at  the  house  of  Colonel  Creighton.  In  India,  where 
every  rascally  soothsayer  and  juggler  is  worshipped  as  a 
god,  Kim  is  looked  upon  as  a  being  from  the  "  other 
world."  When  his  prophecy  turns  out  to  be  true  and 
the  troops  are  sent  north,  Kim's  name  is  common 
bazaar-talk.     He  is  regarded  as  a  priest  of  the  gods. 

Kim  is  eventually  thrown  across  the  path  of  his  father's 
old  regiment.  He  sees  the  "  red  bull  on  a  green  field," 
which  is  the  regimental  badge,  and  he  is  filled  with 
curiosity.  The  regiment  claims  him,  and  he  is  sent  to 
be  educated.  Kim  proves  to  be  a  difficult  subject,  and 
the  chaplains  first  of  all  herd  the  little  "  Friend  of  the 
Stars  "  with  the  drummer-boys  for  his  instruction.  But 
the  Lama — who  is  a  learned  doctor  of  a  lamassery,  and 
also  a  man  with  means — offers  to  pay  the  expenses  of 
his  chela  that  he  may  go  to  one  of  the  best  schools.  In 
any  case  the  regimental  school  would  not  have  held  the 
untamable  Kim.  So  he  is  sent  to  St.  Xavier's  College, 
a  great  Roman  Catholic  seat  of  learning.  As  the  boy 
goes  he  meets  the  Lama  in  Lucknow,  and  a  most  touch- 
ing parting  takes  place.     The  old  man  is  sad  and  very 

96 


"  K  rM " 

weary  .  .  .  the  glamour  of  his  pilgrimage  seems  to  have 
vanished  for  the  moment.  He  turns  to  his  wonderful 
little  chela  and  mutters  :  "  Dost  thou  love  me  ?  Then 
go,  or  my  heart  cracks.  ...  I  will  come  again.  Surely 
I  will  come  again.  .  .  ."  The  boy  passes  into  the 
college,  and  the  "  Gates  of  Learning "  shut  with  a 
clang. 

Colonel  Creighton  and  Mahbub — the  two  doughty 
players  of  the  "  Great  Game  " — have  been  keeping  an 
eye  on  Kim,  and  decided  that  he  is  suited  in  every  way 
to  become  a  player  in  the  Game.  The  boy  is  therefore 
sent  from  St.  Xavier's  to  the  house  of  Lurgan  to  receive 
instruction.  Here  he  is  taught  to  judge  a  man's 
character  by  his  talk  and  manners,  to  scientifically 
observe  and  memorize  all  things  about  him,  and  to  scoff 
at  all  kinds  of  danger.  Lurgan  possesses  an  amazing 
knowledge  of  the  sorcery  of  the  East,  and  Kipling  uses 
him  as  a  medium  to  display  to  the  reader  a  method  of 
magic  that  has  been  employed  in  India  from  a  remote 
period.  The  scene  in  which  a  native  vessel  full  of  water 
is  shattered  into  a  thousand  pieces,  and  afterwards  built 
up  to  its  original  form  without  showing  a  blemish,  is  a 
fascinating  fragment  of  writing.  For  the  solution  of 
this  mysterious  occurrence  one  must  dip  into  the  secrets 
of  crystal  gazing.  Kim  hurls  the  jug,  and  it  is  dashed 
into  many  pieces.  There  is  no  doubt  about  this ;  it  is 
really  broken.  Immediately  after  the  crash  Lurgan  bids 
Kim  look  at  it,  or  rather,  at  the  largest  piece,  which  lay, 
with  water  in  its  curve,  in  the  sunlight.  The  boy  gazes 
intently,  while  the  man  uses  hypnotic  influence  in 
order  to  detract  his  mind  from  the  surrounding  impres- 
sions of  the  external  world. 

"  Look  !     It  is  coming  into  shape,"  says  Lurgan. 

It  is  simply  a  matter  of  crystal  vision  ;  Kim  is  crystal- 
gazing,  only  the  usual  glass  sphere  or  polished  crystal  is 
replaced  by  the  sparkle  of  water  in  the  fragment  of 
earthenware.     The  subconscious  contents  of  the  boy's 

G  97 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

brain  are  now  in  action,  and  are  producing  day-dreams 
or  hallucinations. 

"  Look  !     It  is  coming  into  shape,"  insists  Lurgan. 

The  object  that  Kim  has  centred  his  thoughts  upon 
has  disappeared,  and  he  is  lost  in  darkness ;  he  will  now 
see  anything  that  Lurgan  orders  him  to  see. 

Historically,  crystal-gazing  is  one  of  the  most  ancient 
branches  of  magic.  We  have  only  to  go  to  the  British 
Museum  to  glean  an  idea  of  how  widely  it  has  been 
practised.  The  seers  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome  used 
crystals,  the  mirror,  or  an  inky  pool  of  still  water.  The 
uncanny  art  has  been,  and  in  some  cases  still  is,  practised 
in  Egypt,  Assyria,  Persia,  India,  China,  and  Japan.  It 
survives  among  the  natives  of  Australia  and  Madagascar, 
and  in  the  sixteenth  century  many  exponents  were  to  be 
found  in  England  and  the  Continent,  who,  we  are  told, 
"  were  neither  charlatans  nor  fools,  but  learned  men  of 
note."  The  famous  Doctor  Dee  (1527-1608)  was  a 
notable  adherent  to  this  branch  of  sorcery,  and  his 
"  shew-stone  "  is  still  to  be  seen  at  the  British  Museum. 

Kim  is  thoroughly  tested,  and  gains  the  praise  of  one 
of  the  cleverest  of  the  secret  service  men,  Babu  Hurree 
Chunder  Mookerjee.  As  an  apprentice  in  the  Intelli- 
gence Department,  Kim  rejoins  the  Lama,  and  is  allowed 
to  go  with  the  holy  man  upon  his  quest  for  the  river 
that  sprang  from  the  arrow  of  Gaudama.  Finally  Kim 
helps  Hurree  Chunder  to  trick  and  put  to  flight  two 
Russian  spies.  It  chanced  that  the  wheel  of  fate  had 
brought  the  Babu  into  the  regions  across  the  huddled 
mountains  of  the  Sewalik  range,  where  Kim  and  the 
Lama  had  wandered.  Here,  by  accident  or  perhaps 
design,  the  Babu  met  with  two  foreigners — a  Russian 
and  a  Frenchman — surveying  the  territory  and  occupied 
in  a  mysterious  political  plot. 

Hurree  Chunder  offered  his  services  to  them,  and  at 
the  same  time  adroitly  cursed  the  British  and  all  their 
ways.     It  did  not  take  R.17  of  the  Ethnological  Survey 

98 


"KIM" 

long  to  find  certain  treasonable  papers  in  their  camp. 
But  how  would  it  be  possible  to  break  up  the  spies' 
camp  without  help  ?  The  appearance  of  Kim  with  the 
Lama  at  this  point  helped  him  out  of  the  difficulty. 
The  Russian  officer  rudely  demanded  the  chart  of  the 
wheel  which  the  Lama  had  been  explaining  to  them. 
Of  course  the  old  man  would  have  no  more  thought  of 
parting  with  his  "  Wheel  of  Things  "  to  a  chance-met 
wayfarer  than  an  archbishop  would  have  thought  of 
pawning  "  the  holy  vessels  of  a  cathedral."  Besides, 
the  Lama  was  an  abbot  and  a  wealthy  one  too.  He 
courteously  declined  to  give  up  his  wheel,  but  said  that 
if  he  found  that  the  Sahib  was  a  true  seeker  and  of 
"  good  understanding  "  he  would  draw  him  another. 

But  the  demand  came :  "  He  wishes  it  now — for 
money." 

The  Lama  simply  folded  up  the  wheel,  and  the 
Russian,  failing  to  see  that  he  was  not  dealing  with  a 
begging  mendicant,  drew  out  some  rupees  and  snatched 
at  the  "  Written  Word,"  which  tore  in  two  with  his 
action. 

The  Lama's  hand  went  down  to  his  heavy  metal  pen- 
case — ever  the  holy  man's  weapon  of  defence — but 
before  he  could  defend  himself  he  received  a  blow  in 
the  face. 

The  Irish  blood  in  Kim  boiled  at  the  insult  offered  to 
the  holy  man,  and  he  rushed  in  upon  the  Russian,  bearing 
him  down  with  blows.  In  the  end  the  foreigners, 
helped  and  guided  by  the  courteous  and  unfaithful 
Babu,  were  hustled  out  of  the  hill-country  by  the 
wrathful  coolies,  who  were  also  eager  to  exact  vengeance 
for  the  affront  to  the  Lama.  In  the  fracas,  they  left 
behind,  or  were  robbed  of,  all  the  property  which  they 
possessed. 

Kim  lost  little  time  in  sorting  this  over,  taking  over 
all  the  maps  and  treasonable  correspondence  as  an 
official   of  the   Indian   Survey  Department,   but  their 

99 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

camp  chattels  and  private  property  he  contemptuously 
threw  down  a  precipice.  The  Lama  is  much  distressed 
to  think  that  he  has  been  the  cause  of  violence,  and 
sadly  retraces  his  steps  to  India. 

The  excessive  strain  which  falls  on  Kim  in  ministering 
to  the  sick  Lama  almost  breaks  his  health,  but  both  at 
length  reach  friendly  shelter. 

After  many  journeys,  the  old  Lama  ends  his  search  for 
the  River  of  the  Arrow  in  a  manner  in  which  tears  and 
merriment  are  equally  forced  upon  the  reader.  As  the 
end  approaches  he  is  much  perplexed,  and  even  the 
wonderful  spectacles  given  to  him  by  the  curator  of  the 
Wonder  House  do  not  enable  him  to  find  his  river. 
But  a  canal  (which  to  his  imperfect  vision  seems  to  be  the 
river  of  the  quest),  attracts  him,  and  he  manages  to  fall 
into  it,  only  being  rescued  with  much  difficulty  by 
Hurree  Babu.  The  darkness  and  shadows  fall  around 
the  saintly  yellow  man,  and  he  is  bound  by  illusions. 
The  parting  scenes  between  him  and  his  chela  are  full 
of  pathos,  and  the  beautiful  prose  in  which  Kipling  has 
framed  the  scene  has  almost  the  conviction  of  fine 
poetry. 

"  Thou  hast  never  stept  a  hair-breadth  from  the  way 
of  obedience.  Child,  I  have  lived  on  thy  strength,  as 
an  old  tree  lives  on  the  lime  of  a  new  wall,"  says  the 
Red  Lama. 

"  Thou  leanest  on  me  in  the  body,"  replies  Kim, 
"  but  I  lean  on  thee  for  some  other  things.  Dost 
know  it  ?  " 

Yes,  we  may  be  certain  that  the  Lama  knew.  He 
may  not  have  guessed  the  many  parts  he  had  uncon- 
sciously acted  in  the  Great  Game.  But  the  reader  will 
notice  that  his  last  thoughts  were  for  his  faithful  chela. 
As  his  soul  drifted  towards  the  deliverance  from  the 
"  Wheel  of  Things  "  he  had  said :  "  I  shall  have  safe- 
guarded him  through  the  years." 

Then  with  a  smile  the   saintly  Lama   crossed  those 

100 


"KIM" 

hands,  which  were  like  carved  ivory,  and  the  River  of 
the  Arrow  gushed  forth  at  his  feet. 

He  had  arrived  at  that  stage  in  which  his  soul  was 
free  from  every  vestige  of  delusion  and  malevolence. 
Such  a  man  returns  no  more  to  this  world.  His  warfare 
is  accomplished,  his  salvation  won.  In  the  abundant 
literature  of  the  Buddhist  movement,  whether  in  the 
genuine  suttas  of  the  Tripitaka  or  the  ancient  tales  of 
China  and  Thibet,  many  stories  may  be  traced  in  which 
it  is  told  how  holy  men  have  attained  to  the  highest  in 
this  life.  Here  is  an  example  to  be  found  in  "  Maha 
para  bibbana  Sutta  "  : 

And  from  immediately  after  his  ordination  the  venerable  Subhadda 
remained  alone  and  separate,  earnest,  zealous,  and  resolved. 

And  ere  long  he  attained  to  that  supreme  goal — ^Nirvana,  the  higher  life — 
for  the  sake  of  which  men  go  out  from  all  and  every  household  gain  and 
comfort,  to  become  homeless  wanderers  ;  yea,  that  supreme  goal  did  he 
himself,  and  while  yet  in  this  visible  world,  bring  himself  to  the  knowledge  of, 
and  continue  to  realize  and  see  face  to  face.  And  he  became  conscious 
that  birth  was  at  an  end,  that  the  higher  life  had  been  fulfilled,  that  all 
that  should  be  done  had  been  accomplished,  and  that  after  this  present  life 
(to  which  he  had  attained)  there  would  be  none  beyond  it. 

Again,  the  effect  of  the  breaking  of  those  chains  which 
bound  the  Lama  to  the  illusory  life,  is  told  in  Sir  Edwin 
Arnold's  beautiful  interpretation  of  the  fifth  book  of  the 
*'  Bhagavad-Gita  "  : 

But  for  whom  that  darkness  of  the  soul  is  chased  by  light,  splendid  and 
clear  shines  manifest  the  truth  as  if  a  Sun  of  Wisdom  sprang  to  shed  its 
beams  at  dawn. 

Him  meditating  still,  him  seeking,  with  him  blended,  stayed  on  him, 
the  souls  illuminated  take  that  road  which  has  no  turning  back — their  sins 
flung  off  by  strength  of  faith.  Who  will  may  have  this  light ;  who  hath  it 
sees. 

He  had  found  his  river — yes — but  why  ?  Because  he 
believed  in  it ;  because  he  was  true  to  it  ;  because  he 
waited  for  it,  and  recognized  it  when  it  came.  "  Kim  " 
is  a  song  of  life  and  hope,  but  it  is  a  prayer  of  the  maturer 

lOI 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

spirit :  "  Lord  forgive  our  transgressions  ;  punish  us  for 
foolishness,  and  preserve  our  dreams  !  " 

Kim,  the  hero  of  our  story,  remains  behind,  and,  as 
he  is  so  very  young  v^hen  the  book  ends,  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  we  shall  one  day  meet  him  again  in  a  new  volume 
of  adventure.  The  rakish  Mahbub  has  had  little  chance 
as  yet  to  seriously  try  his  hand  on  the  boy,  and  Father 
Victor  may  be  also  waiting  to  instruct  him. 

Of  all  the  characters  in  the  book  the  Lama  is  best.  He 
embodies  all  those  excellent  qualities  that  make  the 
truly  lovable  man — reverence,  gentleness,  pity,  and 
resignation.  In  the  sanctuary  of  the  old  Lama's  heart, 
there  is  the  flower  of  pity  which  shimmers  eternally. 
To  few  people,  and  but  seldom,  is  it  given  to  feel  the 
ecstasy  of  being  utterly  alone  with  the  sun  and  earth  as 
it  was  given  to  the  Lama.  Richard  Jefferies,  in  that 
wonderful  prose  poem  "  The  Story  of  My  Heart,"  tells 
of  the  joy  that  is  more  permanent  than  our  errors  and 
more  sure  than  our  illusions — the  joy  of  the  sense  of 
utter  loneliness,  when  the  earth  held  him,  and  pressed 
him,  and  spoke  to  him,  and  he  felt  an  emotion  that  was 
as  if  his  whole  life  were  poured  out  in  a  prayer.  Of  the 
Lama,  Mr.  Cyril  Falls  has  written  in  his  study  of  Kipling 
(Martin  Seeker) :  "  He  is  no  knight  of  God  setting  forth 
to  attack  wrong,  no  valiant  soldier  leading  the  battle 
against  the  legions  of  Evil.  But  the  holiness  of  Madame 
de  Guyon  and  of  Fenelon,  the  doctrines  of  Quietism, 
which  were  in  effect  those  of  some  of  the  most  venerated 
saints  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  notably  of  Saint 
Teresa,  are  not  very  far  from  him."  If  the  reader  is 
interested  in  religious  movements,  or  in  the  evolution  of 
a  soul — an  Irish  soul  at  that  ! — brought  into  contact  with 
Christianity,  Hinduism,  Islamism,  Buddhism,  and  the 
mysterious  harmonies  of  nature,  he  will  find  ample  food 
for  reflection  in  this  volume.  The  arguments  which 
take  place  between  Bennett,  the  Puritan  chaplain,  and 
Father  Victor,  are  full  of  quiet  humour  and  suggestion. 

102 


"KIM" 

Men  who  live  in  the  lonely  outposts  of  the  Empire, 
where  the  petty  intolerances  of  this  country  are  unknown, 
will  appreciate  the  remark  that  "  whenever  the  Church 
of  England  dealt  with  a  human  problem  she  was  very 
likely  to  call  in  the  Church  of  Rome." 

Kim  has  his  prototype.  Before  Kimball  O'Hara 
comes  Tim  Doolan.  According  to  the  editor  of  a 
Darjeeling  newspaper  called  the  Pall  Mall,  Kipling's  boy 
hero  is  no  other  than  the  son  of  an  Irish  soldier,  Doolan, 
who,  during  the  Indian  Mutiny  of  1857,  eloped  with  a 
beautiful  Tibetan  girl.  A  wing  of  a  British  regiment 
had  been  stationed  at  the  sunless  heights  of  Seneshall,  a 
peak  of  the  Himalayas,  not  far  from  Darjeeling,  and  one 
morning  Sergeant  Doolan  was  missing.  He  had  crossed 
the  frontier  with  the  native  girl  to  live  with  her  people. 
No  man  ever  met  the  soldier  again,  but  after  twenty 
years  had  passed,  the  Indian  police  arrested  in  Dar- 
jeeling market-place  a  strange  boy  with  very  fair  com- 
plexion, blue  eyes,  and  light  hair,  on  a  charge  of  murder. 
Papers  sewn  up  in  a  leather  case  of  Tibetan  workmanship 
were  found  suspended  from  his  neck.  The  British 
authorities  found  that  they  established  the  boy's  origin 
and  identity — ^he  was  the  son  of  the  missing  Sergeant 
Doolan.  The  boy  spoke  only  in  the  tongue  of  the 
Tibetan,  and,  like  Kipling's  Kim,  looked  upon  the 
papers  in  the  case  as  a  charm.  His  father's  service  rifle 
and  part  of  his  equipment  were  found  in  Doolan's  hut 
afterwards.  The  poor  half-caste  boy's  amulet,  however, 
did  not  save  him,  for  he  was  executed  for  murder.  The 
story  is  well  known  in  India,  and  it  may  be  quite  possible 
that  Kipling  created  Kim  from  that  scant  material. 

Sir  Francis  Younghusband  says  that  the  Tibetans, 
though  they  have  such  a  reputation  for  seclusiveness,  are 
not  by  nature  unsociable.  The  courageous  Japanese 
traveller  Kawaguchi,  himself  a  Buddhist,  who  lived  in 
the  Sera  Monastery  at  Tibet,  says  that  they  were 
originally  a  people  highly  hospitable  to  strangers.     This 

103 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

more  natural  sentiment  was,  he  remarks,  weakened  by 
dread  that  Buddhism  would  be  destroyed  and  replaced 
by  Christianity  with  the  influx  of  foreigners.  The 
Tibetans  also  feared  that  the  British  sought  their  gold- 
mines, and  were  prejudiced  against  us  on  account  of  our 
subjugation  of  India.  The  Government  of  China, 
probably  prompted  by  some  secret  policy,  warned  the 
Tibetans  not  to  open  their  gates  to  the  British.  But  we 
must  remember  that  the  Chinese  have  often  rendered 
great  services  to  the  Tibetans  in  repelling  their  foes,  and 
in  1792  a  Chinese  officer  made  a  wonderful  forced  march 
with  his  troops  over  many  lofty  passes  to  expel  the 
Gurkha  invasion. 

Mr.  Edmund  Candler,  in  his  famous  book  "  The 
Unveiling  of  Lhasa,"  says  that  the  Lamas  appeared  to 
him  to  be  gross  and  sottish,  and  few  could  be  compared 
to  Kipling's  gentle  old  Lama  in  "  Kim."  "  Most  of 
them,"  he  says,  *'  showed  cruelty  and  cunning  in  their 
features,  some  were  almost  simian  in  appearance,  and 
looked  as  if  they  could  not  harbour  a  thought  that  was 
not  animal  or  sensual.  They  waddled  in  their  walk, 
and  their  right  arms,  exposed  from  the  shoulder,  looked 
soft  and  flabby,  as  if  they  had  never  done  an  honest 
day's  work  in  their  lives." 

Sir  Francis  Younghusband,  in  a  vivid  description  of 
the  Jo  Khang  Temple,*  has  pointed  out  that  dirt  is 
excessively  prevalent  within  this  building,  and  the  smell 
of  putrid  butter  used  in  the  services  is  very  offensive. 
The  candlesticks,  vases,  and  ceremonial  utensils,  are  of 
solid  gold  and  of  beautiful  design.  The  original  temple 
was  built  about  a.d.  650,  but  has  been  added  to  from 
time  to  time,  and  now  stands  a  confused  pile  without 
symmetry,  "  and  devoid  of  any  single  complete  archi- 

*  "  India  and  Tibet :   A  History  of  the  relations  which  have  subsisted 
between  the  two  countries  from  the  time  of  Warren  Hastings  to  1910 ; 
with  a  particular  account  of  the  Mission  to  Lhasa  of  1904."    (John  Murray, 
London,  1910.) 
10^ 


"KIM" 

tectural  idea."  The  stone  pavements  have  been  worn 
by  the  feet  of  innumerable  pilgrims,  who  for  a  thousand 
years  have  wandered  from  far-oif  lands  to  prostrate 
themselves  before  the  benign  and  peaceful  Buddha. 
Here,  in  the  far  recesses,  the  profound  booming  of  great 
drums,  the  chanting  of  the  monks,  the  blare  of  trumpets, 
the  clash  of  cymbals,  and  the  long  rolling  of  lighter 
drums  with  masterly  rhythm,  break  in  upon  the  audience. 
Sir  Francis  Younghusband  says  that  it  was  not  until  he 
came  to  see  the  people  at  a  service  in  this  grotesque 
cathedral,  that  he  found  the  true  inner  spirit  of  the 
Tibetans,  or  at  least  the  source  from  which  they  drew 
that  spirit.  It  appears  that  the  monks  express  all  moods 
of  joy  and  sadness  in  their  deep  rhythmic  droning  of 
chants,  and  the  throbbing  and  growling  of  drums.  By 
the  drum  the  Tibetan  hypnotizes  his  audience  and 
himself. 

The  Ngpak-pas,  or  miracle  workers,  the  descendants 
of  the  Lamas  who  made  magic,  are  supposed  to  possess 
hereditary  secrets  and  are  held  in  great  awe.  Sir  Francis 
Younghusband  pointed  out  that  the  Tibetans  showed 
such  practical  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  the  charms  of  these 
miracle- workers,  that  they  rushed  right  up  to  the  rifles 
of  our  troops,  believing  that  our  bullets  could  do  them 
no  harm.  Of  all  the  Tibetans  Sir  Francis  Young- 
husband met,  the  Ti  Rimpoche — Chief  Doctor  of 
Divinity  and  Metaphysics — more  nearly  approached 
Kipling's  Lama  in  "  Kim  "  than  any  other.  He  was 
full  of  kindliness,  and  presented  each  of  the  English 
officers  with  an  image  of  Buddha,  remarking  that  when- 
ever he  looked  upon  an  image  of  Buddha  he  thought 
only  of  peace,  and  that  he  hoped  that  whenever  they 
looked  upon  it  they  would  think  kindly  of  Tibet. 

Kipling  has  traced  the  ways  of  the  Secret  Service 
romantically  in  "  Kim,"  but,  as  it  will  be  noticed  in  the 
following  facts,*  there  is  little  need  to  add  any  imagina- 
*  I  have  drawn  these  details  from  the  Pall  Mall,  December  1903. 

105 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

tive  embellishment  to  the  sober  records  of  that  branch 
of  the   Indian   Survey  Department.     The   Service  v^as 
organized,    far    away    back   in    the   sixties,    by    Colonel 
Montgomerie,  who  had  himself  done  admirable  work  as 
a  surveyor  of  the  Himalayas.     How  to  survey  the  "  back 
of  beyond  "  was  his  problem.     He  solved  it  by  training 
natives    who   could   be   sent   where   white   men   would 
certainly  be  suspected,  and  would  probably  meet  with  a 
swift  death.     He  enlisted  the  "  players  "  in  his  "  game," 
and  taught  them  what  it  was  good  for  them  to  know 
about  the  Secret  Service,  but  was  careful  not  to  teach 
them  too  much.     They  were  taught — as  Kim  was — to 
make  a  route  survey  by  taking  bearings  with  a  compass 
and  pacing  the  distance,  and  to  take  meridian  altitudes 
with  a  sextant  to  determine  altitudes.     But  they  were 
not  taught  to  reduce  their  observations,  nor  supplied 
with  astronomical  tables,  for  fear  lest  they  should  "  fake  " 
fictitious   work.     When   trained   they   were   sent   forth 
secretly,  in  suitable  disguises,  abandoning  their  names, 
and   one    may   almost   say   their   individualities,    being 
known  thenceforward  only  by  mysterious  initials,  num- 
bers, and  symbolic  designations.     Some  of  the  names  we 
find  in  the  records  are  "  Pundit  A,"  "  K.P.,"  "  Number 
Nine,"  "  The  Mirza,"  and  the  like.     The  first  Govern- 
ment spy  went  to  Yarkand  by  the  Karakoram,  and  died 
on  his   return   journey.     The    Secret    Service  of  India 
looked  upon  the  circumstances  under  which  their  servant 
Muhammad-i-hamid    died    as    very    suspicious.     Their 
second  recruit  was  a  Pathan,  who,  unhappily  for  the 
Government,  had  a  private  quarrel  of  many  years  stand- 
ing in  that  part  to  which  he  had  been  despatched.     He 
diverged  to  wipe  all  old  scores  off  the  slate,  and  his 
career  was  cut  short  with  a  dagger.     His  papers  were 
returned  to  the  British  Government  with  the  compli- 
ments of  the  Akhunt  of  Swat. 

"  Pundit  B  "  made  a  start  for  Lhasa,  but  lost  nerve 
and  turned  back.  The  first  success  was  "  Pundit  A." 
1 06 


'^  K  I  M  " 

"  Pundit  A,"  when  his  identity  was  allowed  to  be 
disclosed,  turned  out  to  be  a  Bhutiya  subject  of  the 
Government.  He  had  become  a  headmaster  of  a 
Government  vernacular  school  when  the  players  of  the 
Great  Game  claimed  him.  After  being  trained  as  an 
explorer  and  serving  in  the  Department  of  the  Great 
Trigonometrical  Survey  for  many  years,  he  was  sent 
forth  secretly  to  Lhasa  in  company  with  Pundit  B.  But 
Pundit  B  turned  back  and  left  the  dogged  Pundit  A  to 
enter  the  mystic  city  alone.  He  stayed  at  Lhasa  from 
January  lo  to  April  21  in  the  year  1866. 

It  was  from  the  information  of  this  secret  agent  that 
the  Government  of  India  formed  rough  maps  of  this 
city.  In  1874  this  same  agent  made  a  still  more  adven- 
turous journey.  His  instructions  were  to  set  out  from 
Leh,  cross  the  vast  lacustrine  plateau  of  Tibet  to  Lhasa, 
and  thence  make  his  way  down  into  Assam.  He  entered 
Lhasa,  but  the  surly  attitude  of  the  people  warned  him 
that  he  was  in  danger,  so  he  only  stayed  there  a  few 
hours. 

On  this  journey  Pundit  A  made  many  notable  geo- 
graphical discoveries,  traversing  1200  miles  of  unknown 
land,  taking  276  astronomical  observations  for  latitude, 
and  497  for  elevation,  on  his  way.  He  also  traced  the 
unknown  parts  of  the  course  of  the  Brahmapootra, 
which  proved  the  existence  of  the  vast  snowy  range  of 
the  Northern  Himalaya,  and  ascertaining  the  existence 
of  many  lakes  and  waterways.  So  we  find  a  humble 
player  in  the  Great  Game  far  back  in  1874,  who  can  be 
ranked  with  Sven  Hedin  as  a  traveller.  On  his  retire- 
ment the  Government  granted  him  a  village  with  his 
pension. 

Another  Secret  Service  agent  was  known  as  "The 
Almighty  One."  Captain  Harman,  R.E.,  unearthed 
him,  and  set  him  to  ascertain  if  the  Tsang-po  of  Central 
Tibet  was  or  was  not  continuous  with  the  Brahmapootra. 
After  encountering  every  kind  of  misfortune  and  hard- 

107 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

ship  in  following  the  Lower  Tsang-po,  he  came  almost 
in  sight  of  the  Assam  plains.  Here  he  tried  to  com- 
municate with  his  friends  lower  down  the  river,  accord- 
ing to  arrangements  with  Captain  Harman,  by  casting 
marked  logs  into  the  water.  But  the  five  hundred  logs, 
each  bearing  the  sign  of  the  Secret  Service,  floated 
unheeded  down  the  tide.  Captain  Harman  had  perished 
of  frostbite  caught  among  the  snows  of  Kanchenjunga, 
and  no  one  was  looking  out  for  the  signal  of  "  The 
Almighty  One." 


lo8 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  CHARGE  OF  BRUTALITY 

The  charge  of  brutality :  A  selection  of  letters  from  T.  P.V  Weekly : 
"  The  Light  that  Failed  "  :  A  strange  plea  for  the  tragic  ending : 
Maisie  and  Bessie  :  Physical  suffering  in  literature  :  "  The  Vam- 
pire "  :  A  reply  by  Felicia  Blake  :  T.  W.  H.  Crosland's  parody. 


Tou  sure  have  got  things  going  now  and  Pm  with  you.  There  may 
be  a  few  classics  in  the  world  that  are  good — tha-Cs  so — and  there  may 
he  some  writers  who  can  come  a  skilful  twist  on  history  :  hut  for  the 
real  essence,  the  pure  heart  of  life — the  roses  and  wine  of  the  pen — 
the  pulse-quickener — the  appeal  to  the  soul  of  honest,  liberal,  human 
humanity,  you  are  the  rouge  d^or  souffle  fromage. 

(Rev.)  Frank  Ashton. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  CHARGE  OF  BRUTALITY 

There  is  a  side  to  Kipling's  literary  expression  which 
perhaps  offends  or  irritates  the  more  sensitive  folk,  and 
that  is  manifested  in  "  Brugglesmith,"  a  story  in  which 
the  adventures  of  an  outrageously  intoxicated  boiler- 
maker  from  Greenock,  are  sketched  in  exceedingly  lively 
language.  It  is  in  such  cases  as  this,  that  the  charge  of 
brutality  has  been  hurled  at  him.  But  is  it  justified  ? 
If  we  were  to  measure  genius  by  the  conventional  rules 
of  twentieth-century  respectability,  how  many  would 
survive  the  ordeal  ?  Each  century  has  its  literary 
vagabonds,  its  Defoe,  its  Fielding,  and  its  Borrow. 
Great  art  is  always  virile,  and  we  could  well  spare  many 
volumes  of  rectitude,  but  never  one  page  of  lusty 
Rabelaisian  spirit. 

One  critic  has  pointed  out  that  we  who  applaud  the 
obese  and  drunken  figure  of  Falstaff  can  afford  to  laugh 
at  the  vagaries  of  the  Scottish  engineer. 

Great  artists  have  always  been  virile  and  wholesome. 
It  would  seem  that  Kipling  loves  all  that  tends  to  expand 
his  emotions,  and  that  his  art  is  merely  the  expression 
of  his  joy  in  expansive  life.  His  humour  sparkles  with 
you  in  "  Their  Lawful  Occasions,"  a  story  which  invites 
the  world  at  large  "  to  buy  a  'am  and  see  life."  It 
flaunts  itself  magnificently  in  "  Stalky  and  Co."  It  laughs 
with  you  in  the  mirth  of  Mulvaney,  just  as  it  beckons 
you  from  the  poems  of  the  very  human  Tommy  we  meet 
in  "  The  Five  Nations." 

It  has  been  said  that    Kipling  is  not   essentially  a 

III 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

woman's  writer.  I  do  not  think  that  he  appeals  very 
strongly  to  the  mass  of  his  reading  countrywomen. 
Certainly  the  women  who  do  appreciate  him  do  so 
because  their  minds  are  more  than  ordinarily  sturdy  and 
subtle,  and  they  have  the  power  of  taking  their  souls 
on  a  pilgrimage  into  the  world  and  thoughts  of  the 
virile,  fighting,  spendthrift,  practical-idealist  who  is 
Kipling's  hero  and  deity. 

In  Mr.  Monkshood's  monograph  on  Kipling  there  is 
the  following  statement :  "I  have  never  met  a  woman 
who  was  a  Kiplingite,  and  I  should  not  have  believed 
it  if  I  had.  The  writings  of  Kipling  do  not  appeal  to 
women."  This  is  a  strongly  worded  statement,  and  it 
was  challenged  in  T.P.'j  Weekly  *  by  many  women 
admirers  of  Kipling.  A  selection  of  the  letters  which 
appeared  in  this  journal  may  be  of  peculiar  interest  at 
the  present  time.     One  lady  writes : 

Mr.  Kipling's  vehemence  is  perhaps  shocking  to  the  gentle  type  of 
woman  who  is  built  for  quiet  home-life ;  but  to  the  many  women  who 
know  their  limitations  and  have  no  wish  to  overstep  them,  yet  feeling  an 
intellectual  glory  in  the  wider  activities  of  masculinity,  Kipling  is  a  source 
of  true  delight.  There  is  no  better  tonic  after  a  long  day  than  a  dip  into 
"  Many  Inventions  "  or  "  The  Day's  Work."  Of  the  Kipling  of  "  The 
Brushwood  Boy  "  and  the  "  Just-so  Stories  "  there  is  no  need  to  speak, 
since  every  woman,  however  gentle,  must  appreciate  their  tender  fancies. 

Here  the  writer  rather  pleads  for  than  asserts  Kipling's 
appeal  to  woman,  singling  out  those  of  his  writings 
which  are  less  sturdy  and  virile  than  the  rest.  Why  are 
they  appreciated  ?  For  their  "  tender  fancies."  One 
cannot  altogether  overlook  the  significance  of  the  excep- 
tion of  the  stormily  magnificent  sea-songs  in  the  "  Seven 
Seas  "  and  all  the  author's  barrack-room  balladry. 

Another  correspondent  thinks  that  he  is  deficient  in 
that  special  perception  that  is  required  to  understand 
the  feminine  soul : 

*  "  Friday  Notes,"  T.  P.'j  Weekly,  August  28",  1903,  September  4,  1903, 
and  September  1 1,  1903. 
112 


THE   CHARGE   OF   BRUTALITY 

Kipling's  female  characters  are  rather  Irritating,  because,  like  many 
another  clever  man,  when  he  talks  about  women  he  is  talking  of  what  he 
does  not  understand ;  but  his  loyal  English  gentlemen,  who  would  scorn 
a  dirty  action,  yet  are  in  no  way  "  superior  persons,"  his  very  human 
Tommies  whose  only  faults  are  generous  ones,  the  whole  spirit  of  vigour 
and  freshness,  of  large  tolerance  for  human  frailties,  of  simple  matter-of- 
fact  devotion  to  duty,  which  pervades  his  works,  backed  by  the  glamour 
which  he  can  throw  over  commonplaces,  appeal  very  largely  to  a  woman's 
imagination,  even  if  her  heart  be  not  thereby  reached. 

Kipling  attributes  to  his  Oriental  leanings  his  aversion 
to  dealing  with  women  "  outside  her  house  in  fiction 
properly  so-called."  He  says :  "  She  is  delightful  in 
real  life  ;  but  one  has  seen  a  little  too  much  of  her  in 
literature.  .  .  .  There  are  so  many  other  subjects." 
This  statement  is  very  true,  and  plainly  shows  why  he 
does  not  interest  us  so  much  in  love  affairs. 

I  have  selected  this  passage  from  another  letter,  to 
illustrate  the  fact  that  Kipling's  lack  of  the  sentimental 
sometimes  attracts  the  feminine  mind  : 

I  confidently  contradict  the  assertion  that  no  woman  is  a  Kiplingite. 
His  work  appeals  to  healthy-minded  women  precisely  because  his  men 
characters  are  true,  honest  and  manly,  with  no  mawkishness  or  sentimen- 
tality about  them ;  and  to  me,  personally,  one  great  attraction  of  his 
writing  is  the  absence  of  "  the  eternally  feminine  element,"  though,  when 
he  likes,  Kipling  can  draw  an  attractive  woman,  e.g.  William  the  Conqueror 
in  "The  Day's  Work" 

No  one  could  accuse  him  of  being  a  sentimentalist,  in 
fact  he  is  the  sworn  enemy  of  that  class  of  sentimental 
"  tosh  "  under  which  the  cheap  bookstalls  for  ever 
groan.  This  is  a  saving  grace  with  Kipling,  even  when 
he  fails  most  desperately.  We  can  forgive  him  for  the 
inelegant  "  Absent-minded  Beggar  "  and  his  fanatical 
denunciations  of  political  opponents.  We  can  pass  over 
such  verbal  nonsense  as  "  We  know  the  hells  prepared 
for  them  that  serve  not  home  "  as  we  pass  over  similar 
nonsense  in  George  Borrow's  books.  We  will  even  allow 
him  to  inform  us  that  it  was  not  Saul,  but  David,  who 

H  113 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

went  to  look  for  donkeys  and  found  a  kingdom.  We 
will  overlook  all  his  brutality  and  crudeness  ;  all  his 
^'  thin  thoughts  clothed  in  the  gorgeous  language  of 
Hosea,"  but  we  will  never  overlook  mawkishness  and 
sentimentality. 

Of  the  women  who  do  appreciate  Kipling,  I  find  that 
the  majority  associate  their  enthusiasm  for  his  works 
with  the  reading  of  "  The  Light  that  Failed,"  and  I 
think  that  this  conclusion  is  strengthened  by  the  further 
letters  of  appreciation  which  are  given  below.  Kipling 
made  a  concession  to  the  public  which  always  demands 
the  gentle  path  before  the  path  of  thorns,  when  he 
gave  "  The  Light  That  Failed  "  a  happy  ending  on  its 
appearance  as  a  serial.  But  on  the  flyleaf  of  the  volume 
we  read  "  This  is  the  true  story  of  '  The  Light  That 
Failed '  as  it  was  originally  conceived  by  the  writer." 
"  Put  me  in  the  front  of  the  firing  line  "  is  Dick's  request 
in  the  last  chapter,  and  as  we  read  the  last  lines  we  learn 
that  a  "  kindly  bullet  "  had  passed  through  his  head. 
I  have  heard  it  remarked  that  a  happy  ending  renders 
the  story  artistically  unsound,  and  that  one  might  just 
.  as  well  request  a  happy  ending  to  Romeo  and  Juliet,  but 
I  have  never  heard  the  following  plea  for  a  tragic  ending 
put  forth  before : 

To  my  mind,  the  most  fascinating  character  in  fiction  is  R.  K.'s  Dick 
in  "  The  Light  that  Failed."  I  have  never  felt  such  a  genuine  affection 
for  any  other  fictional  hero  as  I  do  for  him,  and  I  sat  and  cried  terribly  at 
Daly's  last  February  as  poor  old  Dick  groped  and  stumbled  about  in  his 
helpless  blindness.  I  like  the  book  ending  (Dick  had  a  bullet  through  his 
brain  in  the  edition  I  read)  better  than  the  stage  ending,  because  I  don't 
think  Maisie  half  good  enough. 

Here  is  another  passage  from  a  lady  reader  who  enjoys 
both  the  pathos  and  humour  of  Kipling :  rather  an 
exception  among  his  feminine  admirers : 

In  my  spare  time  (I  am  a  telegraphist,  and  'tis  limited)  I  have  read  much 
and  of  many  kinds,  and  I  can  say,  without  hesitation,  that  as  a  novel- 
v^^riter,  next  to  Dickens,  I  like  Kipling.    I  like  his  style  for  its  vivid  strength 

114 


THE   CHARGE   OF   BRUTALITY 

and  humour — humour  not  refined  and  delicate,  perhaps,  but  strong  and 
natural.  A  woman's  sense  of  humour  may  not  be  as  keen  as  a  man's,  but 
my  sense  of  humour  is  keen  enough  to  appreciate  Mulvaney,  and  I  believe 
many  of  my  sisters  could  say  the  same.  And,  again,  one  need  not  go 
further  than  "  The  Light  that  Failed  "  for  pathos.  Women  can  appreciate 
pathos,  and  have  a  keener  sense  of  it  than  men. 

Kipling's  characterization  of  women  is  less  convincing 
than  his  characterization  of  men,  and  nothing  could 
show  more  clearly  his  attempts  to  remedy  this  fault,  and 
the  inevitable  check  that  it  has  put  upon  him,  than  the 
open  avowal  of  failure  implied  by  getting  Maisie  out  of 
the  way  with  such  brusqueness,  in  the  middle  of  "  The 
Light  that  Failed."  Maisie  is  the  type  of  woman  that 
Kipling  would  have  the  greatest  difficulty  in  portraying  ; 
you  see,  she  was  so  cultured  and  regular,  and  after 
Kipling  had  got  her  fixed,  and  with  great  difficulty  had 
dragged  her  to  the  middle  of  his  story,  he  had  nothing 
more  to  say  about  her  ;  he  had  to  effect  an  exchange 
and  fall  back  on  Bessie,  who  is  more  or  less  barbaric. 

The  charge  of  brutality  is  often  brought  against 
Kipling.  How  far  is  it  justified  ?  Mulvaney 's  narration 
of  the  fight  in  Silver's  Theatre,  which  exercises  such  a 
fascination  over  one,  has  been  described  as  brutal.  We 
have  been  told  that  such  a  scene  only  transcribes  the 
lust  for  blood  and  personal  revenge,  which  we  have  tried 
to  thrust  towards  the  background  in  the  evolution  of 
our  industrial  civilization.  Some  go  so  far  as  to  say  that 
Kipling  owes  his  success  in  literature  to  the  fact  that, 
while  we  have  put  personal  physical  warfare  almost 
entirely  out  of  our  own  lives,  there  is  still  enough  primi- 
tive hellishness  in  us  to  leave  us  fascinated  with  the 
recital  of  torture.  Of  course  it  is  impossible  to  say  how 
far  an  artist  may  be  allowed  to  probe  into  the  realms  of 
human  suffering  ;  a  certain  ineradicable  instinct  which 
makes  suffering  interesting  to  us,  demands  it  in  art.  And, 
somehow,  suffering  always  brings  the  best  out  in  man. 
We  grow  through  the  three  fundamental  principles  of 

IIS 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

human  existence  —  suffering,  thinking,  doing.  But 
Kipling's  description  of  men  in  physical  suffering — 
more  especially  in  action  or  personal  conflict — forms  a 
genuine  individual  note  in  literature.  The  true  poet 
would  try  to  palliate  many  of  the  horrible  scenes  which 
are  reproduced  in  "  Barrack  Room  Ballads."  But 
Kipling  is  too  wise  to  be  wholly  a  poet,  and  yet  too 
surely  a  poet  to  be  implacably  wise.  If  Kipling  is 
barbaric,  he  is  also  genuine  ;  he  disarms  criticism.  Take 
for  example  "  Snarleyow,"  some  verses  in  which  a 
Tommy  describes  how  a  driver  in  the  R.H.A.,  seeing 
his  brother  struck  by  a  shell  and  in  great  agony,  judged 
it  best  to  take  the  horses,  gun,  and  limber  over  the  poor 
fellow  in  order  to  end  his  suffering.  I  have  heard  this 
described  as  "  simply  the  impressionism  of  the  shambles 
of  the  prize-ring,"  or  "  a  product  of  an  emotion  so 
barbaric  as  to  delight  in  the  mere  portrayal  of  suffering 
for  its  own  sake — simply  the  lust  of  the  barbarian  for 
blood."  But  Kipling  has  made  a  fight  against  the 
valuation  of  art — that  is  to  say,  in  his  case,  poetry  or 
prose — for  the  mere  perfection  of  its  technique  alone. 
The  rather  ridiculous  phrase  "  Art  for  Art's  sake  !  "  has 
had  its  day.  After  reading  a  poem  or  story  we  only 
ask  one  thing,  though,  perhaps,  in  many  forms.  Does 
it  give  us  a  new  possession  by  making  us  aware  of  some- 
thing we  possess  ?  Is  it  a  piece  of  conscious  life, 
extracted  with  care  from  the  soul  of  things,  a  piece  of 
knowing  carried  out  by  the  artist,  which  we  are  allowed 
to  share  ?  Has  it  given  us  an  increased  consciousness  of 
life  ?  We  do  not  ask  if  the  work  of  an  artist  is  barbaric 
or  beautiful.  We  ask  him  for  life,  which  is  above  all 
technique,  all  criticism  and  all  imagination. 

A  poem  that  provoked  a  great  deal  of  adverse  criticism 
is  "  The  Vampire,"  and  most  probably  Kipling  for  this 
reason  was  prompted  to  refrain  from  including  it  in  any 
of  his  books  of  verse.  The  poem  was  specially  written 
for  the  author's  cousin,  Philip  Burne-Jones,as  an  elucida- 
ii6 


» 


THE   CHARGE   OF   BRUTALITY 

tion  of  his  picture  exhibited  at  the  New  Gallery  in 
1897.  The  painting  depicts  a  man  stretched  on  a  bed 
with  death  written  on  every  line  of  his  face.  The 
"  Vampire,"  a  woman  with  a  cold  and  hard  expression, 
has  taken  up  a  position  by  his  side.  She  is  stylishly 
clothed,  and  apparently  is  not  at  all  distressed  by  his 
passing.  The  verses  have  been  extensively  parodied, 
and  several  clever  retaliations  have  been  written  by  the 
fair  sex.  I  give  one  of  them  from  the  pen  of  Felicia 
Blake  : 

A  Fool  there  was,  and  she  lowered  her  pride^ 
{Even  as  you  and  /,) 

To  a  hunch  oj  conceit  in  a  masculine  hide. 

We  saw  the  faults  that  could  not  be  denied  ; 

But  the  Fool  saw  only  his  manly  side — 
{Even  as  you  and  I). 

Oh,  the  love  she  laid  on  her  own  heart's  grave. 
With  the  care  of  her  own  head  and  hand. 
Belongs  to  the  man  who  did  not  know — 
{And  now  she  knows  that  he  never  could  know). 
And  did  not  understand. 

A  Fool  there  was,  and  her  best  she  gave — 

{Even  as  you  and  I) 
Of  noble  thoughts,  of  gay  and  grave — 
{And  all  was  accepted  as  due  to  the  knave) 
But  the  Fool  would  never  her  folly  save 

{Even  as  you  and  /). 

Oh,  the  stabs  she  hid,  which  the  Lord  forbid 

Had  ever  been  really  -planned. 
She  took  from  the  man  who  didn't  know  why — 
{And  now  she  knows  he  could  never  know  why) 

And  did  not  understand. 

The  Fool  was  loved  when  the  game  was  new 

{Even  as  you  and  I). 
And  when  it  was  flayed  she  took  our  cue — 
{Plodding  along  as  most  of  us  do) 
Trying  to  keep  his  faults  from  view 

{Even  as  you  and  I). 

117 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

But  it  isn't  the  ache  of  the  heart,  or  its  break. 

That  stings  like  a  white-hot  brand. 
Ifs  the  learning  to  know  that  she  raised  a  God, 
And  bent  her  head  to  kiss  the  rod. 

For  the  on^  who  could  not  understand. 

A  worthy  instance  of  a  parody  which  wittily  imitates 
Kipling's  style  without  servilely  following  the  original 
poem,  is  T.  W.  H.  Crosland's  "  The  Public."  * 

Oh,  the  years  we  waste  and  the  tears  we  waste, 
And  the  work  of  our  head  and  hand 
Belong  to  the  Public  that  doesn't  read  verse 
(And,  probably,  never  will  learn  to  read  verse) 
Which  it  does  not  understand  ! 

A  fool  there  was  and  his  youth  he  spent 

(Even  as  you  and  I !) 
Concocting  rhymes  that  were  excellent 
{If  the  Public  had  only  perceived  what  he  meant) 
But  the  Public  can't  help  its  natural  bent 

{No  more  than  you  and  I  J) 

Oh,  the  toil  we  lost  and  the  spoil  we  lost 

And  the  beautiful  things  we  planned 

Belong  to  the  Public  that  doesn't  buy  verse 

(And  has  made  up  its  mind  it  will  never  buy  verse) 

Which  it  cannot  understand  ! 

"  The  Vampire  "  excited  quite  a  war  between  the 
poets.  Mr.  James  Douglas  disputes  Kipling's  all-em- 
bracing conception  that  the  man  is  the  everlasting  fool, 
and  the  woman  is  the  everlasting  vampire.  "  That  is," 
he  says,  "  only  our  boyish  way  of  looking  at  things. 
Being  an  incurable  boy,  it  is  also  Kipling's  way.  It 
does  not  occur  to  him  or  to  us  that  the  song  could  be 
rewritten  thus : 

A  fool  there  was  and  she  made  her  prayer — 

Even  as  you  or  I — 
To  a  beast  in  his  den  or  a  brute  in  his  lair. 

*   "  Other  People's  Wings,"  by  T.  W.  H.  Crosland.    At  the  Sign  of  the 
Unicorn,  1899. 
118 


THE  CHARGE   OF  BRUTALITY 

We  called  him  the  clod  who  didnH  care, 
But  the  fool,  she  called  him  her  hero  fair, 
Even  as  you  or  I. 

The  tables  are  turned,  you  see.  The  Vampire  is  a 
man,  and  the  fool  is  a  woman.  But,  you  may  say,  there 
are  no  male  vampires.  Vampires  are  always  women,  just 
as  angels  are  always  men.  But  why  are  vampires  always 
women  ?  Well,  the  explanation  is  very  simple.  Art 
has  been  dominated  by  the  male  point  of  view  ever 
since  the  first  saga  was  sung,  or  the  first  epic  was  recited, 
or  the  first  statue  was  chiselled,  or  the  first  painting  was 
painted.  We  all  take  our  theory  of  life  from  art.  As  a 
rule  we  take  it  from  novels.  Although  women  write 
novels,  they  still  write  from  the  male  point  of  view. 
They  have  hardly  begun  to  fight  their  way  towards  a 
readjustment  of  values. 


119 


I 


CHAPTER  IX 
OMAR  KHAYYAM  AND  KIPLING 

Paul  Elmer  More  and  his  "  Shelburne  Essays "  :  Omar  and 
Kipling  :  Kipling  formulates  a  portable  wisdom  for  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  people  :  The  dominant  chord  of  the  English  race  :  Experience 
teaches  :  Verses  from  the  Bulletin  :  Omar  Khayyam  Club  :  Colonel 
John  Hay  :  William  Archer  and  New  York  mechanic. 


Shakespeare  was  neither  supremely  wise  nor  good — 

he  was  simply  a  healthy  man  to  whom  j ate  supplied 

Bought  Thou  and  Jug  in  right  proportion, — also  a 

disposition  to  work. 

Elbert  Hubbard. 


CHAPTER  IX 

OMAR  KHAYYAM  and  KIPLING 

Paul  Elmer  More,  in  his  delightful  Shelburne  Essays, 
mentions  a  story  that  was  current  in  Fleet  Street  not 
long  ago,  of  a  rash  editor  who  made  a  wager  with  a 
friend,  that  no  paragraph  dealing  with  Rudyard  Kipling 
or  FitzGerald,  should  appear  in  his  journal  during  a 
stated  period.  And,  of  course,  it  is  needless  to  state 
that  he  lost  his  bet  on  the  appearance  of  the  next  issue. 
Mr.  More  also  takes  the  opportunity  to  point  out  what 
an  endless  stream  of  gossip  found  its  way  into  the  Press 
about  these  two  writers,  who  were  so  opposed  to  each 
other  in  style  and  aim.  It  is  one  of  those  inexplicable 
curiosities  in  the  tastes  of  the  public.  None  of  our 
poets,  not  even  Byron,  ever  enjoyed  the  limelight  of  the 
Press  and  the  popularity  that  came  to  Kipling  when  he 
was  quite  a  young  man.  The  fame  of  the  reincarnation 
of  Omar,  which  was  also  world-wide,  was  of  a  different 
calibre,  and  it  came  long  after  the  "  Suffolk  dreamer  " 
had  fallen  into  his  last  sleep.  However,  in  both  cases  a 
kind  of  miracle  has  been  worked  ;  that  is  to  say  that  the 
almost  impassable  gulf  between  the  cultured  few  and  the 
uncultured  many,  has  been  successfully  navigated  by  both 
these  poets.  Wherever  the  English  speech  is  spoken  or 
read,  the  poems  of  Kipling  have  taken  their  place  both 
with  the  scholarly  and  the  illiterate,  and  his  speech  has 
become,  as  it  were,  "  the  plain  words  "  of  our  people. 

The  cause  of  Kipling's  popularity  is  not  difficult  to 
determine.  The  Anglo-Saxon  people,  with  their  restless 
and  strenuous  ways,  had  been  waiting  for  the  poet  who 

123 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

could  formulate  their  experiences  and  needs,  by  supplying 
them  with  a  kind  of  portable  wisdom — short,  sharp, 
pithy  maxims  which  they  could  remember,  or  better 
still,  which  they  could  not  forget.  They  had  already 
started  to  express  open  discontent  with  the  poet  who 
used  a  pen  as  if  it  were  a  fence  post,  and  who  put  the 
hero  so  far  off  amid  the  dust  and  smoke  of  the  ages  that 
he  was  lost  to  view.  They  demanded  a  man  who  could 
in  the  quickest  and  most  effective  way  feed  them  with 
maxims,  short,  brief  and  musical.  At  this  point,  Rudyard 
Kipling,  with  no  desire  to  deprive  any  other  poet  of  his 
daily  bread,  introduced  himself.  He  wrote  for  the  ear 
of  the  Englishman  whose  spiritual  force  is  stronger  than 
his  senses,  for  Kipling  knew  that  the  Anglo-Saxon 
cannot  appreciate  sensual  pleasures  and  superfluous 
emotions  as  the  Southern  people  can.  The  public  saw 
beyond  doubt  that  the  new  poet  was  a  consummate 
literary  stylist,  and  the  man  in  the  street  started  to 
repeat  his  maxims  in  his  daily  conversation  or  in  writing, 
just  as  the  educated  use  the  Bible  or  Shakespeare  for 
symbol.  All  English  authors  quote  or  refer  to  Kipling. 
Some  admire  him,  others  are  loftily  critical  ;  most  of 
them  are  a  little  jealous  ;  and  a  few  use  him  as  a  horrible 
example  of  the  mad  militarist.  But  since  his  arguments 
on  military  organization  and  efficiency  are  now  unanswer- 
able, the  latter  may  be  dismissed.  Kipling  has  stood 
trial  by  newspaper  and  has  been  convicted — as  all  great 
authors  have — of  being  a  poseur,  a  pedant,  a  learned 
sleight-of-hand  man,  and  a  bag-of-books.  But  personal 
vilification  has  been  popular  since  Balaam  talked  scandal 
with  his  ms-d-ms. 

There  is  little  mystery  about  Kipling ;  even  his  ghost 
stories  are  devoid  of  mystery.  Other  poets  have,  like 
the  Egyptians,  guarded  their  mysteries  with  zealous 
dread,  but  Kipling  knew  that  wisdom  cannot  be  corralled 
with  shadowy  idealism  and  fettered  in  jargon.  Know- 
ledge is  one  thing — palaver  is  another.  Kipling  is  simple 
124 


OMAR   KHAYYAM    and    KIPLING 

in  his  demands,  but  few  poets  have  a  clearer  sense  of 
patriotic  responsibility.  In  a  single  line  he  has  expressed 
his  golden  rule : 

''  Keep  ye  the  Law — be  swift  in  all  obedience." 
In  his  essay  on  Kipling  and  FitzGerald,  Mr.  More  has 
enumerated  certain  Anglo-Saxon  poets  who,  before 
Kipling,  had  missed  the  dominant  chord  of  the  English 
race  and  character,  and  so  remained  more  or  less  cut  off 
from  the  people.  For  instance  he  remarks,  "  Tennyson 
lapsed  in  his  latter  days  into  a  vein  of  pantheistic 
mysticism,"  "  Browning  was  obscure,"  and  ''  Matthew 
Arnold  chose  for  himself  a  region  of  sublimated  doubt 
and  faith,  interesting  enough  to  Oxford,  but  incom- 
prehensible to  the  larger  public,"  which  means  when  it 
is  all  summed  up  that  these  poets  at  times  were  a  little 
too  gaseous  for  the  average  Anglo-Saxon.  Their  truths 
were  furnished  with  frills,  and  it  has  been  remarked  that 
nothing  disturbs  the  Philistine  so  much  as  a  hotchpot  of 
simple  truth  and  mysticism.  Style  and  thought, 
emotion,  interest,  melody  and  picture  are,  of  course, 
only  factors  in  Kipling's  work.  The  total  is  force.  In 
the  last  resort  literature  must  be  judged,  like  everything 
else,  by  the  force  it  develops,  the  quantity  of  latent 
energy  which  it  makes  active. 

Omar's  bread  and  wine  and  verses  may  be  stowed 
away  on  the  shelf,  each  awaiting  its  mood.  But  Kipling 
will  not  abide  until  after  the  afternoon  siesta.  He  bids 
you  to  be  up  and  about  the  family  business — to  take 
hold  of  the  "  Wings  o'  the  Morning."  Kipling's 
trumpet  drives  an  unknown  multitude  of  pioneers  of 
the  Empire  over  the  sea  in  the  faith  of  little  children 
"  that  their  sons  may  follow  after  by  the  bones  on  the 
way."  Omar,  drowsy  with  life's  mingled  wine,  bids  the 
weary  traveller  bask  in  the  sun,  and  make  the  most  of 
what  they  yet  may  spend  ;  his  world  is  fantastic — one 
of  song  and  sun  and  summertide.  The  "  whisper  and 
the  vision  "  of  Omar  and  his  unapproachable  translator 

125 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

turns  the  mind  upside  down.  But  what  is  its  force  ? 
What  active  energy  does  it  disengage  ?  What  is  its 
effect  ?  But  the  scale  inevitably  adjusts  itself.  Kipling 
has  that  virility  that  has  helped  to  seal  the  pact  that 
exists  between  the  old  grey  mother  and  the  "  Sons  of 
the  Blood,"  and  he  speaks  after  the  manner  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  *'  in  straight  flung  words  and  few,"  while 
FitzGerald  and  Omar  give  us  a  slender  volume  of 
precious  workmanship  and  transcendent  enchantment. 
Omar  sang  to  a  half  barbarous  province  ;  FitzGerald  to 
the  world,  and  Kipling  sang  to  the  British  Empire. 

Before  the  sheep  can  follow  safely,  the  shepherd  must 
know  the  path.  Experience  teaches  ;  but  only  one's 
own  experience.  Before  Kipling  became  the  Laureate  of 
Empire  he  had  to  earn  it,  and  this  fact  accounts  for  the 
heartening,  bracing  cheerfulness  in  the  spirit  of  his 
verse,  which  acts  as  a  tonic  to  the  jaded  and  weary. 
Who  can  read  "  The  Wishing  Caps  "  from  "  Kim  " 
without  feeling  reinvigorated  ?  Here  the  poet  shows 
that  the  only  human  way  of  having  a  good  time  is  to 
"  live  like  a  man  "  and  let  luck  look  after  the  rest.  It  is 
a  song  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  spiritual  force  which  decides 
that  the  body  must  take  its  chance  in  the  face  of  danger 
— Whence  the  refrain,  "  If  I've  no  care  for  fortune,  fortune 
must  follow  me  still."  To  understand  life  one  must  get 
emotions,  impressions,  sensations — the  most  varied  and 
the  most  intense  that  the  brain  and  body  can  get.  It 
the  Western  version  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  Kipling  shows 
that  it  is  useless  to  urge  the  duty  of  self-renunciation 
to  men  who  have  never  known  what  the  pleasures  and 
pitfalls  of  life  are.  Leo  Tolstoy — whom  Kipling  thought 
was  so  delightfully  oriental — spent  his  life  engaged  in 
regenerating  a  people  who  seemed  to  know  little  of 
laughter,  learning,  passion  or  regret — a  people  who  had 
never  understood  the  meaning  of  crime  or  virtue.  Of 
course  it  is  our  privilege  to  hearken  to  the  Russian  Fakir's 
appeal  for  a  life  that  labours  long  and  is  kind,  the  life 
126 


OMAR    KHAYYAM    and    KIPLING 

that  gives  much  and  demands  little.  But  we  must 
remember  that  the  people  whom  he  preached  to  had 
not  the  advantage  that  he  had  of  drawing  upon  the 
storehouse  of  unregenerate  youth  for  elderly  morals. 
Before  a  man  can  learn  that  violence  is  transient  and 
hate  consumes  itself,  he  must  go  out  into  the  world  like 
the  Prodigal  Son  and  learn  all  about  the  "  common 
touch."  That  is  nature's  way.  I  recall  some  verses 
which  appeared  in  the  Bulletin  of  Sydney,  which  tells 
the  whole  story  condensed  in  a  few  lines  : 

The  world  was  made  when  a  man  was  horn. 
He  must  taste  for  himself  the  forbidden  springs. 
He  can  never  take  warning  from  old-fashioned  things. 
He  must  fight  as  a  hoy  ;   he  must  drink  as  a  youth. 
He  must  kiss,  he  must  love  ;   he  must  swear  to  the  truth 
Of  the  friend  of  his  soul.    He  must  laugh  to  scorn 
The  hint  of  deceit  in  a  woman's  eyes 
That  are  clear  as  the  wells  of  Paradise. 

And  so  he  goes  on  till  the  world  grows  old  ; 

Till  his  tongue  has  grown  cautious,  his  heart  has  grown  cold  ; 

Till  the  smile  leaves  his  mouth  and  the  ring  leaves  his  laugh. 

And  he  shirks  the  hright  headache  you  ask  him  to  quaf. 

He  grows  formal  with  men,  and  with  women  -polite. 

And  distrustful  of  both  when  thefre  out  of  his  sight. 

One  must  read  that  wonderful  bit  of  philosophy  called 
"  If "  to  understand  Kipling's  ideas  on  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  meek.  It  is  at  such  a  poem  that  the  reader  is 
inclined  to  pause  and  ask  himself :  What  life  do  you 
lead  ?  How  many  of  your  acts  are  done  to  please 
yourself  ?  Kipling  gives  us  new  maxims.  A  time  for 
nothing  and  nothing  in  its  time — never  die  before  you 
are  ready.  Or,  in  other  words,  the  pleasure  in  life 
consists  in  always  being  and  doing  the  unexpected,  in 
refraining  from  the  expected.  We  need  Kipling  to  lead 
the  new  crusade  against  the  fetish  of  custom  which  has 
left  its  chain-galls  and  whip-marks  about  the  loins  of  our 
people,  just  as  much  as  we  needed  FitzGerald  to  take  up 

127 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

the  forgotten  and  amazing  stanzas  of  Omar  and  sing 
them  anew.  But  Omar's  stanzas  announce  the  surrender 
of  the  spiritual  forces  to  the  senses — to  sensual  pleasures 
and  superfluous  emotions.  It  may  be  the  "  accumulated 
refinement  of  ages  of  art,"  but  still  it  is  the  creed  of 
despair — "  of  calm  disillusion  and  jocund  despair,"  as  the 
Hon.  John  Hay  told  the  members  of  the  Omar  Khayyam 
Club.* 

There  could  not  be  any  other  two  poets  so  opposite 
as  Kipling  and  FitzGerald.  Kipling  is  the  implacable 
enemy  of  disillusion  and  doubt,  and  it  is  a  curious  thing 
that  fate  should  draw  and  twist  his  thread  of  destiny 
with  that  of  the  "  Suffolk  dreamer  "  in  a  fellowship  of 
Anglo-Saxon  renown.  The  pessimistic  note  is  not  often 
heard  in  Kipling  ;  there  are  some  rather  gloomy  feelings 
of  growing  age,  some  pathetic  sentiment  concerning  old 
men  with  their  querulous  selfishness  and  their  pitiable 
pretences  that  they  are  not  so  old  as  they  look,  in  a 
poem  in  "  The  Five  Nations  "  under  the  title  of  "  The 
Old  Men,"  but  as  a  rule  Kipling  moves  along  the  wonted 
lines  of  riotous  strength  and  physical  courage.  He 
seems  to  be  high-spirited  about  all  things,  and  he  has  a 
peculiar  quality  of  humour  which  makes  him  unique. 
Some  people  call  it  "  low  "  humour,  but  the  elemental 
in  Humour,  Nature,  Man  or  Art,  always  shocks  the 
Middle  Class. 

Kipling  describes  three  degrees  of  bliss,  three  savers  of 
souls  in  "  The  Jester,"  and  the  lowest  place  but  the 
highest  praise  is  given  to  him  "  who  has  saved  a  soul  by 
a  jest  and  a  brother's  soul  in  sport  .  .  .  there  do  the 
Angels  resort." 

Kipling  is  always  at  ease  in  his  own  company,  and  there 

*  At  a  dinner  of  the  Omar  Khayyam  Club  in  London  (December  8, 
1897)  Colonel  John  Hay,  who  had  been  introduced  by  Mr.  Henry  Norman 
as  "  soldier,  diplomatist,  scholar,  poet  and  Omarian,"  delivered  an  address 
in  praise  of  FitzGerald  and  Omar.  It  is  published  in  book  form  by  Thomas 
B.  Mosher,  Portland,  Maine,  U.S.A. 
128 


OMAR    KHAYYAM    AND    KIPLING 

is  no  written  or  unwritten  literary  law  that  he  has  not 
violated,  but  every  time  he  comes  out  triumphant  with 
his  "  I  know  a  trick  worth  two  of  yours,"  and  thus  he 
has  won  the  affection  of  both  the  scholarly  and  the 
illiterate.  Mr.  William  Archer,  in  his  "  American  Jot- 
tings," supplies  a  ready  illustration  of  the  attitude  of  a 
New  York  mechanic  towards  Kipling.  When  the  poet 
was  taken  dangerously  ill  on  his  American  tour,  Mr. 
Archer  was  accosted  by  a  conductor  of  a  car  as  follows : 
"  I  s'pose  you've  heard  that  Kipling  has  been  very  ill  ?  .  . . 
He's  pulling  through,  though.  .  .  .  He  don't  follow  no 
beaten  tracks.  He  cuts  a  road  for  himself  every  time, 
right  through  ;  an'  a  mighty  good  road,  too  !  .  .  .  He 
ought  to  be  the  next  Poet  Laureate." 


129 


CHAPTER  X 
TALES  OF  HORROR  AND  TERROR 

The  occult  world  :  "The  House  Surgeon"  :  An  outline  of  the 

story  :  "  The  Return  of  Imray  "  :  "  Bertram  and  Bimi "  :  "  The 

Mark  of  the  Beast." 


Millions  of  sfiriuml  creatures  walk  the  earth 
Unseen,  both  when  we  wake  and  when  we  sleefT 


Paradise  Lost. 


CHAPTER  X 

TALES  OF  HORROR  AND  TERROR 

To  most  of  us  there  is  a  curious  fascination  in  the  occult 
world.  Of  course  not  one  man  in  a  million  has  the 
courage  to  admit  that  he  believes  in  ghosts.  It  takes 
more  than  an  average  valour  to  confess  to  a  belief  in  the 
supernatural,  in  fact  we  are  more  inclined  to  **  believe 
and  tremble  "  as  the  devils  of  the  Scriptures  did,  without 
admitting  the  authority  of  their  belief.  It  is  rather  an 
ancient  saying  that  every  other  man  you  meet  has  a 
friend  who  has  seen  a  ghost,  but  you  never  meet  the  man 
who  has  actually  seen  a  ghost  for  himself.  Rudyard 
Kipling,  wise  man  that  he  is,  absolutely  evades  any 
out-and-out  declaration  of  a  personal  belief  in  ghosts. 
Though  one  has  an  idea  that  Kipling  is  half-convinced 
that  there  is  something  in  spiritualism,  it  is  very  difficult 
to  find  any  evidence  in  his  works  to  support  this  impres- 
sion. One  even  recognizes  the  sly  truth  in  George 
Moore's  "  avowal  "  that  Kipling  has  ever  at  the  back 
of  his  head  the  little  triumph  of  "  I  know  a  trick  worth 
two  of  that."  Of  course  a  mere  glance  at  such  a  story 
as  **  The  House  Surgeon "  will  convince  the  most 
callous  and  the  most  casual  that  he  has  what  cannot  be 
acquired  by  any  trick  on  earth — the  grip  on  human  life. 
There  are  no  ghosts  in  Kipling's  ghost  stories,  and 
this  is  a  very  refreshing  discovery.  We  grow  a  little 
tired  of  the  "  Christmas  Annual  "  blood-stained  spectre 
with  accusing  eye,  and  that  inexorably-fixed  digit  point- 
ing on  to  doom.  Kipling  can  v^ite  the  fascinating  tale 
of  terror  as  well  as  any  writer,  but  he  seems  to  be  able 

133 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

to  get  the  authentic  shudder  without  falling  back  on 
Jekyll  and  Hyde  trimmings  or  Edgar  Allan  Poe  flavour- 
ings. The  fact  is,  he  has  seen  that  hysterical  exaggera- 
tions are  as  unconvincing  as  barefaced  falsehoods.  Thus 
it  v^ill  be  noticed  that  the  "  ghost  "  in  "  The  House 
Surgeon  "  is  no  more  or  less  than  a  sinister  influence 
which  seems  to  attack  the  nerves  of  those  who  come  in 
conflict  with  it. 

It  is  as  well  to  give  a  brief  synopsis  of  this  story,  since 
the  silence,  atmosphere,  and  depth  of  it  are  a  great  contrast 
to  the  heedlessness  and  vehemence  that  are  so  usual  in 
his  work.  The  narrator  of  the  story  is  asked  to  spend 
the  week-end  at  the  house  of  a  retired  fur  merchant, 
M'Leod  by  name.  Holmescroft,  a  large  two-storied, 
low,  creeper-covered  residence,  was  not  exactly  haunted, 
but  intermittent  waves  of  an  intolerable  oppression 
swept  over  the  whole  household,  which  consisted  of  the 
owner,  his  wife,  who  is  a  Greek  lady,  and  the  daughter, 
Miss  Thea  M'Leod.  The  sinister  influence  which 
seemed  to  induce  depression  and  even  appalling  terror 
was  not  a  new  development  of  neurasthenia  or  the  latest 
thing  in  nerve  degeneracy,  for  from  the  first  moment 
after  the  narrator  had  been  conducted  to  his  room  at 
Holmescroft,  he  felt  a  terrible  depression,  and  quite 
inexplicably  his  heart  sank.  There  was  an  odour  of 
perfumed  soap  which  made  the  room  rather  close,  and 
in  an  attempt  to  open  the  window  to  let  in  some  air,  the 
narrator  came  very  near  to  falling  out.  With  a  wonderful 
witchery  of  words,  Kipling  makes  us  realize  the  possi- 
bility and  truth  of  the  story,  and  we  live  in  a  world  of 
fantastic  terrors.  The  unseen  terror  first  of  all  starts 
with  a  little  "  grey  shadow  "  which  seems  to  float  at  an 
immense  distance  in  the  background  of  the  brain.  Then 
Kipling  tells  of  a  gloom  and  darkness  which  grows 
swiftly  and  envelops  the  narrator,  finally  terminating  in 
a  spasm  of  extreme  dread.  The  description  which 
follows  of  an  "  amazed  and  angry  soul  "  dropping  gulf 

134 


TALES   OF   HORROR   AND   TERROR 

by  gulf  into  the  great  darkness,  is  really  a  marvellous 
piece  of  work.  Here  again  we  notice  that  Kipling  has 
the  grasp,  and  the  continuity,  and  the  completeness  in 
the  psychology  of  the  abnormal,  which  he  often  lacks  in 
the  psychology  of  the  normal.  He  is  always  clever  in 
the  vivid  delineation  of  strife  in  mental  moods ;  some  of 
his  phrases  in  this  story  are  ideal  masterpieces  of  psycho- 
logical analysis — witness  this :  "I  dwelt  on  this  specula- 
tion precisely  as  a  man  torments  a  raging  tooth  with  his 
tongue  .  .  .  once  more  I  heard  my  brain,  which  knew 
what  would  recur,  telegraph  to  every  quarter  for  help, 
release  or  diversion."  Note,  too,  the  fine  description  of 
the  terror  working  in  the  mind  of  the  narrator  after  the 
sinister  wave  of  darkness  had  passed  over  him.  After 
the  heat  and  oppression  of  his  mental  strife,  he  felt  that 
his  soul  "  cowered  at  the  bottom  of  unclimbable  pits." 
We  may  forget  the  pity  and  the  laughter  in  Kipling's 
stories,  but  the  horror  will  be  remembered.  We  do  not 
easily  forget  the  terrors  of  Jean  Valjean  wandering  in 
the  sewers  of  Paris,  nor  Carter's  ride  in  the  night,  nor 
the  loathsome  details  of  the  man  afflicted  with  madness 
in  "  The  Mark  of  the  Beast." 

But  to  return  to  the  outline  of  the  story.  The  narrator 
makes  a  compact  with  the  M'Leod,  owner  of  the  house, 
to  follow  up  the  trouble,  and  if  possible  lay  the  ghost. 
Kipling's  characterization  of  M^Leod  is  rather  blurred, 
and  this  character's  constant  use  of  the  lingo  of  Cockayne 
is  needlessly  jarring,  especially  when  it  is  mingled  with 
cunningly  ordered  words  which  ring  with  unmistakable 
genius.  We  are  rather  tempted  to  imagine  that  M'Leod 
with  his  eternal  "  ain't  it  ?  "  would  frighten  any  self- 
respecting  ghost  out  of  his  wits.  This  rather  reminds 
us  of  Oscar  Wilde's  story,  "  The  Canterville  Ghost,"  in 
which  an  American  buys  an  old  English  house  with  a 
ghost  three  centuries  old,  and  gives  the  said  ghost  so 
many  painful  American  experiences  that  the  poor  thing 
dies  from  moral  shock. 

135 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Baxter,  the  solicitor  for  the  Misses  Moultrie,  from 
whom   M'Leod    purchased   the   house,   is   approached, 
and  we  are   introduced  to  a  man  who  at  first  appears 
to  be  narrow-souled  and  joyless,  and  one  suspects  that 
he  had  tasted  of    much  bitterness.     But   later   on  we 
learn  that  he  is  a  man  with  splendid  qualities.     Being 
a  cousin  of  the   Misses  Moultrie,   the  narrator  is  able 
to  extract  from  him  that  one  of   the  sisters  had  met 
her  death  through  a  fall  from  one  of  the  windows  of 
Holmescroft,  and  that  the  two  living  sisters  had   con- 
stantly brooded  over  the  affair,  which  they  looked  upon 
as  a  case  of  suicide  and  consequently  a  family  disgrace. 
Their  minds  being  concentrated  upon  the  house,  and 
particularly  the  room  from  which  the  sister  had  dashed 
to  her  death,  the  M'Leods  had  felt  the  presence  of  the 
constant  application  of  their  thoughts.     This,  with  the 
spirit  of   poor   dead  Aggie  forlornly  wandering  about 
trying  to  explain  that  her  death-fall  from  the  window 
was  a  pure  accident,  had  caused  the  house  to  be  cursed 
with  "  blasting  gusts  of  depression." 

The  narrator  is  able  to  explain  to  the  living  sisters 
that  their  sister  had  without  doubt  fallen  from  the 
window  in  attempting  to  open  it  to  get  some  air,  and 
added  that  he  had  nearly  met  the  same  fate  at  that  very 
window  at  Holmescroft.  The  story  concludes  with  an 
account  of  a  visit  to  Holmescroft  by  the  Misses  Moultrie, 
during  which  they  become  convinced  that  they  had 
misjudged  poor  dead  Aggie.  Henceforth  they  would  be 
able  to  think  about  her  without  shame  or  sorrow.  Thus 
peace  is  restored,  and  the  great  shadow  is  lifted  from 
the  shoulders  of  the  M'Leod  family. 

This  story  was  originally  published  in  Harfer's  Maga- 
zine in  two  parts  during  September  and  October  1909, 
with  illustrations  by  F.  Walter  Taylor.  It  is  reprinted 
in  "  Actions  and  Reactions,"  and  is  concluded  with  some 
very  beautiful  verses  entitled  "  The  Rabbi's  Song,"  in 
which  Kipling  explains  his  idea  of  how  "  the  darkness  of 
136 


TALES   OF   HORROR   AND   TERROR 

a  mind,"  be  it  of  the  living  or  the  dead,  may  perplex  and 
cast  shadows  over  an  habitation. 

It  will  be  noticed,  if  we  care  to  study  the  opening 
words  of  Kipling's  stories,  how,  over  and  over  again,  he 
strikes  into  the  heart  of  things  right  away.     Consider, 
for  example,  the  power  of  the  first  few  lines  of  "  The 
Return  of  Imray."     With  a  few  wonderful  touches  of 
the  pen  he  "  works  up  "  the  whole  situation,  and  at  the 
same  time  grips  the  attention  of  the  reader :   "  Imray 
achieved  the  impossible.     Without  warning,  for  no  con- 
ceivable motive,  in  his  youth,  at  the  threshold  of  his 
career,  he  chose  to  disappear  from  the  world — which  is 
to  say,  the  little  Indian  station  where  he  lived."     There 
we  have  the  essence  of  the  story,  and  after  glancing  at 
the  title,   which   assures   us   that   Imray  certainly  will 
return,  we  are  forced  to  read  on  to  the  end.     I  do  not 
think  there  is  a  better  example  of  Kipling's  power  in 
holding  the  reader's  attention  than  this  narrative.     It  is 
a  story  of  that  magic  which  comes  to  us  from  across  the 
"  borderland  " — from  the  "  dead  "  as  we  say.     It  tells 
of  the  disappearance  of  Imray,  whose  bungalow  is  taken 
by  Strickland,  of  the  "  Police,"  a  few  months  afterwards. 
Strickland,  "  who  knows  as  much  of  natives  of  India  as 
is  good  for  any  man,"  seems  to  be  gifted  with  a  genius 
for  inferring  the  unknown  from  the  known,  and  it  is  not 
long  before  he  comes  to  the  conclusion  that  Imray  is 
not  so  far  away  as  some  people  would  imagine.     The 
policeman's  dog,  Tietzens,  refuses  to  sleep  within  the 
new  bungalow,  and  the  narrator  of  the  tale,  who  has 
been  staying  with   Strickland,  felt  that  some  one  was 
trying  to  call  him  by  name  during  the  night :  some  one 
haunted  the  house  by  day  and  by  night — "  a  fluttering, 
whispering,  bolt-fumbling,  lurking,  loitering  Someone." 

In  the  end,  Imray's  body  is  found  by  Strickland  in  the 
space  above  the  ceiling-cloth  of  the  bungalow,  where  he 
had  ascended  to  poke  out  some  snakes. 

With  that  instinct  for  heightening  the  effect  of  a 

137 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

story,  Kipling  causes  Imray's  body  to  shoot  down  upon 
the  table  just  after  dinner,  but  then  the  author  has 
explained  that  "  unpleasantnesses  arrived  "  to  Strickland, 
"  as  do  dinners  to  ordinary  people." 

Bahadur  Khan,  a  servant,  confesses  to  the  murder  of 
Imray,  w^hom  he  said  had  bev^itched  his  child.  The 
simplicity  of  Bahadur  Khan's  defence  of  his  action  is 
exquisite :  "  He  said  he  v^as  a  handsome  child  and 
patted  him  on  the  head,  wherefore  my  child  died. 
Wherefore  I  killed  Imray  Sahib  in  the  twilight."  Every 
touch  in  this  story  gives  just  the  very  message  it  was 
intended  it  should,  and  by  a  deft  arrangement  of  the 
very  simplest  elements,  Kipling  leaves  a  magic  which  is 
above  that  of  "  Spirits  " — the  magic  of  the  artist. 

Everything  which  is  morbid  seems  to  attract  Kipling 
in  proportion  to  its  morbidity.  In  some  of  his  stories  he 
seems  to  have  little  sense  of  what  is  decent,  or,  indeed, 
perhaps  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  he  has  a 
passion  for  what  is  not.  "  Bertram  and  Bimi "  is 
probably  the  most  loathsome  story  he  has  given  out  from 
his  pen,  and  only  rendered  endurable  by  the  obvious  fact 
that  it  is  surcharged  with  Kipling's  astonishing  cleverness. 

In  this  story  a  German — Hans  Breitmann — ^relates 
how  Bertram,  a  French  naturalist,  who  has  specialized  in 
apes,  tamed  an  orang-outang  named  Bimi,  who  lived 
with  him  like  any  human  being.  The  animal  has  been 
so  indulged  and  petted  by  the  Frenchman  that  when  he 
tells  Breitmann  that  he  is  going  to  marry  a  pretty  half- 
caste  French  girl,  the  latter  advises  him  to  kill  the 
marvellous  ape,  who  might  be  dangerous  if  jealous. 
Bertram  makes  game  about  his  friend's  notion.  After 
marriage  he  neglects  the  animal,which  in  a  fit  of  jealousy 
bursts  through  the  ceiling  of  a  room  in  which  the  half- 
caste  girl  has  locked  herself,  and  tears  her  limb  from 
limb.  This  seems  quite  gruesome  enough,  but  Kipling, 
continuing  in  this  strain,  "  sets  the  gilded  roof  on  the 
horror "   by   describing  how   Bimbi   sits   at   the   same 

138 


TALES   OF  HORROR   AND   TERROR 

dinner-table  as  Breitmann  and  Bertram,  with  hair  on 
his  hands,  "  all  black  and  thick  with — with  what  had 
dried  on  his  hands."  Bertram  then  gave  the  ape 
sweetened  wine  and  water  till  he  was  stupefied,  after 
which  he  killed  the  beast  with  his  hands,  and  subsequently- 
succumbed  to  wounds  himself.  Breitmann  returns  after 
a  walk  to  find  the  ape  dead  and  his  friend  above  him. 
Breitmann  *'  laughed  little  and  low,"  and  seemed  quite 
content. 

"  Why  in  the  world  didn't  you  help  Bertram  instead 
of  letting  him  be  killed  ?  "  Hans  was  asked.  And  he 
replied,  "  It  was  not  nice  even  to  mineself  dat  I  should 
live  after  I  haf  seen  dat  room  wid  der  hole  in  the  thatch, 
and  Bertram,  he  was  her  husband." 

The  Spectator  called  this  story  "  detestable,"  and 
another  critic  said  it  was  "  a  symptom  of  unruly  imagina- 
tion." But  the  truth  is  there  is  little  imagination  to 
speak  of  in  "  Bertram  and  Bimi,"  and  if  one  did  not 
know  that  it  came  from  Kipling's  pen  we  might  say  it 
was  a  symptom  of  unstrung  nerves.  The  fact  is  that 
this  is  not  a  tale  of  an  imaginative  genius  or  a  disordered 
brain,  but  simply  a  story  by  a  very  clever  man,  who 
loves  making  people's  flesh  creep.  Possibly  the  homicidal 
ape  in  "  The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue  "  suggested 
Bimi,  and  there  certainly  are  traces  of  Poe's  thoroughly 
unhealthy  and  crapulous  genius  throughout  the  whole 
story.  But  it  does  not  lend  itself  to  inspiring  topics  in 
criticism. 

But  Poe  was  not  standing  at  his  elbow  when  he  wrote 
"  The  Mark  of  the  Beast."  This  was  written  by 
Rudyard  Kipling  himself,  by  that  man  who  looked  at 
life  with  huge  and  perilous  curiosity,  who  has  given  to 
most  un-English  thoughts  a  splendidly  English  dress  ; 
who  has  just  missed  being  one  of  the  greatest  poets  ; 
who  has  just  missed  being  a  mystic.  The  Spectator 
remarked  that  this  story  was  ''  matchless  in  horror  and 
terror."    These   words   may  seem  rather   extravagant, 

139 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

but  after  reading  this  story  we  are  bound  to  admit  that 
Kipling's  power  in  the  blood-curdling  narrative  is 
undeniable.  Perhaps  it  is  unwholesome  and  unnatural, 
and  the  symptom  of  unruly  fancies,  but  it  is  a  master- 
piece of  vivid  description. 

It  is  Kipling's  way  of  presenting  the  story  rather  than 
the  tale  itself  that  makes  the  flesh  creep.  Even  those 
who  are  simply  bored  by  his  more  or  less  fevered  revelling 
in  the  loathsome  details  of  a  man  stricken  with  hydro- 
phobia, can  appreciate  the  subtlety  and  firmness  with 
which  he  pursues  the  thread  of  the  story.  Here  is  the 
outline  of  it.  A  reveller  in  company  with  Strickland  of 
the  Police  and  the  narrator,  returning  from  some  place 
of  entertainment,  slips  away  from  his  companions  and 
enters  the  temple  of  Hanumann,  the  Monkey-god,  where 
he  affronts  the  keeper  of  effigy  by  grinding  the  burning 
butt  of  his  cigar  into  its  forehead.  "  Mark  of  the 
B-beasht  !     I  made  it.     Ishn't  it  fine  ?  "  he  says. 

Instantly  the  people  of  the  temple  are  roused  to 
frenzy,  and  things  look  very  threatening  for  Fleet,  who, 
muddled  with  drink,  is  sprawling  on  the  floor  of  the 
temple.  A  Silver  Man  without  loin-cloth,  "  a  leper  as 
white  as  snow,"  springs  towards  the  Sahib,  throws  his 
arms  about  him  and  nuzzles  his  faceless  head  upon 
his  breast.  After  this  the  crowd  opened  before  the 
intruders,  and  they  return  in  peace.  Strickland  looks 
upon  the  sudden  calming  of  the  people  as  a  bad  sign. 
"  They  should  have  mauled  us,"  he  remarked. 

Next  morning  Fleet  discovers  a  mark  like  the  rosette 
on  the  hide  of  a  leopard  on  his  breast.  He  demands 
chops — bloody  chops — for  his  breakfast,  and  devours 
them  with  all  the  mannerisms  of  an  animal.  When  he 
goes  to  the  stables  to  inspect  the  horses  the  animals  are 
at  once  seized  with  a  frenzy  of  fear — "  they  reared  and 
screamed,  and  nearly  tore  up  the  pickets  ;  they  sweated 
and  shivered  and  lathered,  and  were  distraught  with 
fear." 
140 


TALES  OF   HORROR   AND   TERROR 

Strickland  discovers  that  the  animals  fear  Fleet,  for 
when  he  returns  to  the  stable  alone  there  is  no  sign  of 
any  commotion.  Subsequently  the  fear,  on  the  part  of 
animals  whilst  in  Fleet's  presence,  is  again  indicated,  for 
his  pony  will  not  allow  him  to  come  near.  Strickland 
and  the  narrator  leave  him  to  sleep  while  they  exercise 
their  horses.  On  their  return  the  animals  again  become 
restive  when  they  approach  the  house.  Their  fear  is  not 
prompted  by  imagination,  for  there  is  something  dreadful 
grovelling  in  the  bushes — something  with  green  eyes. 
Of  course  it  is  Fleet,  or,  rather,  the  thing  that  once  was 
Fleet.  They  drag  him  back  to  the  house,  and  he  at 
once  returns  to  his  room,  where  they  hear  him  moving 
about  and  howling  like  a  wolf. 

Strickland  and  the  narrator  listening  from  outside  the 
room,  furnishes  Kipling  with  the  chance  to  bring  his 
vivid  imagination  into  play.  Kipling  can  concentrate 
not  merely  his  own  mind,  but  also  the  minds  of  his 
readers.  Most  men  have  that  instinct  that  prompts 
fear  ;  for  it  is  the  one  instinct  that  passes  to  us  from  our 
ancestors — the  instinct  of  life-preservation  itself.  But 
over  and  above  this  instinct  some  men  have  imagination 
— ^graphic,  intense  imagination.  That  is  what  Kipling 
seeks  to  waken  first  of  all,  and  then  he  builds  upon  it, 
adding  and  adding  to  it  until  he  creates  a  grand  structure 
of  horror.  "  People  write  and  talk  lightly  of  blood  running 
cold,  and  hair  standing  up,"  he  writes.  "  Both  sensa- 
tions are  too  horrible  to  be  trifled  with."  "  My  heart 
stopped  as  though  a  knife  had  been  driven  through  it." 
Somewhere  across  the  fields  and  the  dusk.  Fleet's  howl  is 
answered  by  another  howl.  And  Kipling  remarks : 
"  That  set  the  gilded  roof  on  the  horror." 

They  wait  no  longer,  but  rush  into  Fleet's  room,  and 
are  just  in  time  to  keep  him  from  crawling  out  of  the 
window  to  answer  the  call  of  the  "  Thing  "  out  in  the 
dusk.  They  bind  him  with  the  leather  punkah-ropes, 
and  he  snarls  at  them  like  a  wolf.     A  doctor  is  called  in 

141 


RDDYARD   KIPLING 

and  certifies  that  the  man  is  dying  from  rabies.  Nothing 
can  save  him :  the  doctor  can  only  pronounce  that  he 
is  dying  fast :  without  can  be  heard  a  mewing  like  the 
mewing  of  the  she-otter.  This  mewing  seems  to  goad 
Fleet  to  fresh  paroxysms  of  madness,  and  his  strength 
begins  to  desert  him.  Foam  issues  from  his  mouth  after 
each  fresh  attack. 

The  tell-tale  mewing  of  the  "  Thing  "  outside  leads 
Strickland  and  his  friend  to  lie  in  wait  by  the  door. 
After  a  terrible  struggle  they  catch  the  Silver  Man,  who 
is  dragged  into  the  room  where  Fleet  is  dying.  The 
latter  twists  and  doubles  up  as  if  he  has  been  poisoned 
with  strychnine.  They  bind  the  leper,  and  Strickland 
remarks :  "  Now  we  will  ask  him  to  cure  the  case." 
The  barrels  of  a  gun  are  thrust  into  the  fire  to  heat,  and 
after  a  few  minutes  Strickland  seizes  them  with  a  towel 
wrapped  round  his  hand.  Kipling  says  that  what 
followed  is  not  to  be  printed.  However,  the  Silver  Man 
is  forced  to  remove  his  evil  spell,  and  Fleet  falls  asleep. 
The  leper  is  then  allowed  to  go.  This  seems  to  be  the 
weakest  part  of  the  story,  since  Kipling  has  ascribed  to 
the  Silver  Man  certain  occult  powers :  once  free,  he 
would  not  fail  to  use  them  upon  Fleet  again.  The  leper 
should  have  been  shot. 

When  Fleet  wakes  next  morning  he  has  no  recollection 
of  his  doings  since  he  "  mixed  his  drinks  last  night." 
The  intervening  day  is  lost  to  him.  But  when  he  came 
down  into  the  dining-room  he  sniffed,  and  remarked  to 
Strickland:  "  Hon  id  doggy  smell  .  .  .  you  should 
really  keep  those  terriers  of  yours  in  better  order." 


142 


I 


CHAPTER  XI 
KIPLING'S  SPEECHES 

Kipling  as  a  platform  lecturer  :  Kipling  dinner  at  the  Grand  Hotel 
given  by  Anglo-African  Writers'  Club  :  Frankfort  Moore  :  Royal 
Academy  Banquet,  1906  :  Banquet  of  the  Royal  Literary  Fund, 
1908  :  Address  on  doctors  :  Kipling  on  airmen  :  Brighton  Mayoral 
banquet  :  The  principle  of  hereditary  government  defended  : 
Lecture  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society :  Douglas  Newton's 
"  War  "  :  National  Service  League  caravan  at  Burwash  :  Speech 
at  Mansion  House  on  recruiting  bands  :  "  Departmental  Ditties  " 
written  to  music  :  "  The  Lincolnshire  Poacher  "  :  Sir  Henry 
Newbolt's  poem  "  The  Toy  Band  "  :  Israel  Zangwill  :  Sir  F. 
Bridge  recalls  exploit  of  the  Royal  Irish  :  The  incident  upon 
which  "  The  Toy  Band  "  was  founded  :  Kipling's  address  at  the 
McGill  University  :  Kipling  refuses  payment  for  the  "  Reces- 
sional "  :  "  Some  Aspects  of  Travel  "  :  Love  of  energy  :  "  Boots  "  : 
Pressure-lines  :  The  limes'' s  editorial  article  on  aspects  of  travel  : 
Smells  in  their  relation  to  the  traveller  :  The  qualities  of  a  leader 

of  men. 


^he  Mintage  of  Wisdom  is  to  know  that  rest  is 

rusty  afid  that  Real  Life  lies  in  Love,  Laughter, 

and  Work. 


CHAPTER  XI 
KIPLING'S  SPEECHES 


On  a  few  occasions  Rudyard  Kipling  has  appeared  on 
the  platform  as  a  lecturer  ;  and  I  think  it  is  generally 
admitted  that  he  is  a  fairly  effective  speaker.  He  must 
be  a  very  busy  man,  and  probably  he  gets  little  time  to 
study  the  mysteries  of  rhetoric.  In  private  life,  he  is  a 
fluent  and  versatile  talker,  when  in  the  mood,  and  even 
on  the  platform  his  English  has  always  sparkled  with  a 
certain  witchery  of  words.  But  when  he  faces  a  strange 
audience  he  labours  under  a  very  marked  hesitancy  and 
slowness. 

One  of  the  chief  qualities  which  dominate  the  situation 
on  the  public  platform  is  "  cheek,"  and  this  Kipling 
lacks.  However,  he  has  a  soft,  musical  voice,  a  quick 
ear  and  quick  eye,  and  a  large  vocabulary. 

Mr.  Andrew  Lang  said  some  years  ago  that  Kipling 
was  "  more  at  home  in  an  Afghan  pass  than  in  the 
Strand."  Certainly  the  stealthy  way  in  which  the  Bard 
of  Empire  usually  creeps  to  the  back  of  the  platform  and 
"  takes  cover  "  gives  this  statement  a  good  deal  of  colour. 
We  also  think  of  Kipling's  answer  to  the  editor  of  the 
Cantab  (a  magazine  published  by  Cambridge  under- 
graduates), who  requested  him  to  send  his  photograph 
to  be  published  in  their  paper : 

I  have  not  one  by  me  at  present,  but  when  I  find  one  I  will  send  it, 
but  not  for  publication,  because  my  beauty  is  such  that  it  fades  like  a 
flower  if  you  expose  it, 

K  I4S 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

It  would  be  hard  to  exaggerate  the  stir  which  the 
newspapers  have  made  over  the  speeches  of  Kipling. 
He  was  unfailing  copy  for  the  reporter,  and  if  they  could 
but  get  a  few  words  of  an  after-dinner  speech  made  by 
him,  they  would  magnify  and  print  them  with  heavy 
headlines.  Sometimes  they  have  printed  opinions  that 
were  invented  for  him.  If  he  let  fall  a  few  common- 
places, they  were  multiplied  into  a  column  or  so  after 
the  manner  of  the  miracle  of  the  loaves  and  fishes. 
Everywhere  reporters  were  waiting  for  him,  to  ask  his 
opinion  on  politics,  or  polygamy,  or  the  navy ;  on  the 
war  in  Africa  or  anything  important  or  unimportant, 
exciting  or  inane.  And  if  Kipling  had  eaten  all  the 
public  dinners  that  were  offered,  he  would  not  have 
lived  long  to  enjoy  his  honours. 

The  earliest  speech  which  I  can  trace  is  of  great 
interest.  The  report  quoted  below  is  from  the  London 
Review,  May  21,  1898,  and  it  is  worth  while  to  compare 
Rudyard  Kipling's  remarks  on  the  Boers  of  the  Transvaal 
and  Krugerism  in  this  speech  with  his  poem  "  The  Old 
Issue  "  in  "  The  Five  Nations  "  : 

The  dinner  given  on  Monday  night  at  the  Grand  Hotel  to  Mr.  Rudyard 
Kipling  by  the  Anglo-African  Writers'  Club  was  a  most  interesting  func- 
tion. In  addition  to  the  chairman,  Mr.  Rider  Haggard,  the  company 
included  some  of  the  most  distinguished  of  South  African  administrators. 
Sir  Henry  Bulmer,  Sir  Marshal  Clarke,  Sir  W.  Robinson,  Sir  Walter  Peace, 
the  Mayor  of  Durban,  Mr.  Frankfort  Moore,  Mr.  J.  J.  Millais,  and  many 
other  notabilities  were  present,  but,  unfortunately,  Mr.  Cecil  Rhodes  was 
compelled  to  send  a  telegram  to  the  chairman  to  apologize  for  his  inability 
to  accept  the  invitation  of  the  club.  The  three  speakers  who  referred 
particularly  to  the  Transvaal  and  its  future  took  different,  though  scarcely 
divergent,  views  of  the  question.  Mr.  Rider  Haggard  adopted  the  high 
Imperialistic  tone  in  his  speech,  which  was  tactful  and  enthusiastic.  Mr. 
Rudyard  Kipling,  whose  American  inflexion  surprised  a  good  many  people, 
was  colloquial  and  modest  in  referring  to  his  own  views  as  "  the  disconnected 
maunderings  of  a  casual  traveller."  He  summed  up  the  situation  very 
aptly:  the  humiliation  of  the  white  man — the  man  of  means  with  the 
restless  and  resistless  energy  of  the  Anglo-Saxon,  and  the  exultation  of  the 
Boer.  The  policy  of  Great  Britain  just  now  is  to  lie  still  and  wait  until  the 
146 


KIPLING'S   SPEECHES 

psychological  moment  for  action  comes.  That  moment  was  defined  by 
Mr.  Kipling  in  his  jaunty  and  colloquial  style.  The  Boers  of  the  Transvaal 
"  consider  themselves  our  masters  and  our  bosses  ;  that  is  what  they  believe 
in  the  Transvaal  to  this  day.  We  have  allowed  them  to  put  back  the  clock 
throughout  the  whole  of  South  Africa,  and  make  a  festering  sore,  whose 
influence  for  evil,  if  the  sore  were  wiped  out  to-morrow,  would  last  for 
ten  years.  It  would  not  be  desirable,  I  think,  to  claim  our  rights  by  force. 
But  when  I  was  there  it  seemed  to  me  that,  misled  by  various  offers  of 
Continental  help,  it  was  just  possible  that  they  might  rise  and  cause  trouble. 
Then,  gentlemen,  would  be  the  time  to  clean  the  whole  thing  out.  We 
cannot  do  it  now.  It  is  not  fair.  We  are  the  elder  brother.  But  sooner 
or  later,  if  they  are  unwise  enough  to  take  encouragement  from  some 
Continental  shindy — then  will  be  the  time  to  scoop  them  out."  This 
opinion  was  received  with  loud  cheers.  Mr.  Frankfort  Moore,  who  pro- 
posed the  health  of  the  chairman,  made  some  of  the  "  points "  of  the 
practised  after-dinner  speaker,  causing  a  good  deal  of  merriment  by  the 
suggestion  that  most  people  gained  their  knowledge  of  South  Africa 
through  the  medium  of  prospectuses  "  and  other  forms  of  imaginative 
literature."  He  concluded  by  expressing  the  opinion  that  the  Trans- 
vaal would  as  certainly  become  a  British  colony  as  Cuba  would  become 
the  property  of  "  another  Power  than  that  which  holds  it  to-day." 
Sir  Marshal  Clarke  made  a  soldierlike  speech,  and  the  Mayor  of  Durban 
a  singularly  happy  one.  The  atmosphere  of  the  banquet-room  at 
the  Grand  Hotel  was  highly  charged  with  patriotic  enthusiasm,  which 
was  certainly  not  dissipated  by  the  singing  of  "  Drake's  Drum  "  and 
"  Mandalay." 

In  May  1906  at  the  Royal  Academy  Banquet  he  made 
a  reply  to  the  toast  of  Literature  on  The  Magic  of 
Necessary  Words  ;  a  year  later  he  appeared  at  the 
Annual  Dinner  of  the  Artists'  Benevolent  Fund,  and 
delivered  an  interesting  speech  on  fate's  vagaries  with 
the  artist,  quoting  Solomon :  "  Nor  yet  favour  to  men 
of  skill,  but  time  and  chance  happeneth  to  them  all." 
The  British  Weekly  of  January  9, 1908,  contains  a  report 
of  Kipling's  speech  to  the  students  of  McGill  University, 
on  the  influence  of  a  man  who  does  not  desire  money. 
Presiding  at  the  banquet  of  the  Royal  Literary  Fund 
on  May  21,  1908,  he  spoke  of  the  drawbacks  of  the  life 
of  an  author.  At  the  Middlesex  Hospital  he  delivered 
an  address  on  doctors  and  their  privileges  (October  i, 

147 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

1908),*  and  he  presided  at  the  Cecil  Club's  Dinner  to 
Lord  Charles  Beresford  in  London  on  July  13, 1910,  where 
he  alluded  to  various  matters  concerning  the  Navy. 
On  October  25,  1910,  Kipling  addressed  a  conference 
at  Folkestone  which  met  to  discuss  the  safety  of  air- 
men, a  subject  which  he  later  touched  upon  in  an 
article  in  the  Car  of  July  27,  1910,  where  he  suggested 
air-inflated  protection  suits  for  our  aviators.  As  a 
guest  of  Councillor  Thomas  Stanford,  at  a  Brighton 
Mayoral  Banquet  (November  9,  1910),  he  delivered  a 
speech  in  which  he  defended  the  principle  of  hereditary 
government. 

Kipling  gave  a  lecture  before  the  Royal  Geographical 
Society  at  the  Queen's  Hall  on  "  Some  Aspects  of 
Travel  "  (February  17,  1914).  In  opening  this  address 
he  employed  the  unconventional  formula,  "  Gentlemen 
and  Ladies."  That  he  did  this  deliberately  was  clear, 
for  he  did  not  alter  the  sequence  after  the  laughter  that 
greeted  the  departure.  The  lecture  was  largely  psycho- 
logical. Kipling  sought  to  illustrate  a  certain  mental 
state  of  the  pioneer  which  I  have  touched  upon  in  another 
part  of  this  book. 

When  the  National  Service  League  Caravan  paid  a 
visit  to  Burwash  (September  25,  191 3),  Kipling  took  the 
chair  at  the  meeting  and  made  an  eloquent  speech  on 
the  terrors  of  invasion.  This  speech  is  the  central  idea 
of  Mr.  W.  Douglas  Newton's  "War"  (Methuen,  1914), 
and  it  is  used  in  this  book  as  an  introductory  note. 

At  a  meeting  at  the  Mansion  House  over  which  the 
Lord  Mayor  presided  (January  27,  191 5)  Rudyard 
Kipling  asked  the  people  of  London  to  help  to  provide 
bands,  which  would  inspire  civilians  to  join  the  Army, 
and  also  aid  troops  on  the  march.  In  the  course  of 
this  speech,  which  sparkled  with  characteristic  phrases, 
Kipling  said  :   "  The  battalions  were  born,  quite  rightly, 

*  This  address  has  been  published  under  the  title  "  Doctors "  (Macmillan) 
and  is  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the  Middlesex  Hospital, 
148 


KIPLING'S   SPEECHES 

in  silence,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  they  should  continue 
to  walk  in  silence  for  the  rest  of  their  lives  "  ;  and,  "  No 
one,  not  even  the  adjutant,  can  say  for  certain  where 
the  soul  of  the  battalion  lives,  but  the  expression  of  that 
soul  is  most  often  found  in  the  band."  He  confessed 
himself  a  ''  barbarian  "  in  things  musical,  and  there  came 
from  the  audience  loud  whispered  protests.  Had  certain 
people  recalled  *'  The  Song  of  the  Banjo  "  and  "  The 
Lovers'  Litany  "  ? 

"  The  Song  of  the  Banjo  "  immediately  calls  to  mind 
the  words  of  Kipling's  editor  at  Lahore : 

The  efforts  of  the  native  police-band  in  the  public  gardens  at  Lahore  to 
discourse  English  music  to  a  sparse  gathering  of  native  nurses  and  infants 
would  awaken,  as  we  passed,  some  rhythm  with  accompanying  words  in 
his  mind,  and  he  would  be  obviously  ill  at  ease  because  he  could  not  get 
within  reach  of  pen  and  ink.  Whether  Kipling  would  ever  have  been  much 
of  a  musician  I  cannot  say  ;  but  I  know  that  all  the  poems  he  wrote  during 
the  years  we  worked  together — many  of  the  "  Departmental  Ditties,"  for 
instance — ^were  written  not  only  to  music,  but  as  music.  Only  the  other 
day  in  Vermont  I  heard  him  read,  or  rather  intone,  some  of  his  unpublished 
Barrack-room  Ballads  to  original  tunes,  which  were  infinitely  preferable 
to  the  commonplace  melodies  to  which  his  published  ballads  have  been 
unworthily  set — ^with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  "  Mandalay."  When 
he  had  got  a  tune  into  his  head,  the  words  and  rhyme  came  as  readily  as 
when  a  singer  vamps  his  own  banjo  accompaniment. 

Kipling  has  a  gift  of  making  anything  he  touches  upon, 
particularly  soldiers,  good  listening  matter  ;  and  so, 
when  he  uttered  the  magic  words  "  I  remember  in 
India,"  the  people  bent  forward  eagerly  with  the  hope 
of  gaining  an  inedited  passage  or  so  from  "  Plain  Tales 
from  the  Hills."  Kipling  recalled  how  at  a  cholera  camp 
in  India  (perhaps  that  camp  which  he  so  vividly  describes 
in  "  Only  a  Subaltern  "  *),  where  the  men  were  depressed 
and  fretful,  the  band  of  the  Lincolns  struck  up  that 
rousing  old  tune  "  The  Lincolnshire  Poacher  "  in  order 
to  dispel  the  gloom.     All  melancholy  vanished  when 

*  The  sixth  story  in  "  Under  the  Deodars." 

149 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

the  weary  soldiers  heard  their  regimental  march,  for  it 
was  only  another  way  of  taking  their  memory  back  to 
England  and  the  East  Coast,  where  they  had  been 
prone  to  wander  in  the  moonlight. 

Kipling  also  referred  to  Sir  Henry  Newbolt's  poem, 
in  which  the  poet  describes  how  a  squadron  of  war-worn 
troopers  were  led  to  renewed  effort  by  the  strains  of  a 
penny  whistle,  and  a  child's  toy  drum  taken  from  a 
looted  shop  in  a  French  town : 

"  Hey,  but  here's  a  toy  shop,  here's  a  drum  Jar  me. 

Penny  whistles  too  to  'play  the  tune  ! 
Half  a  thousand  dead  men  soon  shall  hear  and  see 

We're  a  hand^"*  said  the  weary  big  Dragoon. 
"  Rubadub,  Rubadub,  wake  and  take  the  road  again, 

Wheedle,  deedle,  deedle  dee.     Come,  boys,  come. 
Tou  that  mean  to  fight  it  out,  wake  and  take  your  load  again, 

Fall  in.  Fall  in,  Follow  the  fife  and  drum. 

Mr.  Israel  Zangwill,  who  also  spoke  at  this  meeting, 
invented  this  revised  version  of  Kipling's  "  Tommy  " : 

—But  it's  "  Thank  you,  Mr.  Kipling,'^ 
When  the  bands  begin  to  play. 

He  also  submitted  an  epigram  : 

Music  as  an  ally  is  worth  at  least  another  Balkan  State. 

Sir  Frederick  Bridge,  the  organist  of  Westminster 
Abbey,  recalled  the  exploit  of  the  Royal  Irish,  who,  after 
a  terrific  fight  with  a  company  of  police  one  night,  left 
for  the  Crimea  next  day  singing,  "  Cheer,  boys,  cheer  ; 
no  more  of  nights  of  sorrow."  He  also  confessed  that 
"  he  was  sick  to  death  of  classical  music,"  and  much 
preferred  "  Tipperary,"  "  '95,"  and  "  Rory  O'Moore." 

Kipling's  speech  at  the  ''  Recruiting  Bands  "  meeting 
made  one  realize  how  the  routine  of  a  soldier's  life  is 
sweetened  with  music — "  melody  for  the  mind,  and 
rhythm  for  the  body."  We,  who  in  former  years  had 
been  indifferent  to  the  more  serious  purpose  of  a  regi- 
150 


KIPLING'S   SPEECHES 

mental  band,  began  to  understand  that  soldiers  require 
music  to  interpret  and  glorify  their  thoughts  and  moods. 
The  band  can  no  longer  be  counted  as  part  of  a  somewhat 
out-of-date  ceremonial  in  the  training  of  a  soldier — 
it  has  become  a  necessity.  It  must  be  there  to  express 
the  emotions  that  are  beyond  speech. 

"  The  Beautiful  Poem,  by  Sir  Henry  Newbolt,"  which 
Kipling  referred  to  was  published  in  the  Tzw^i  (Decem- 
ber i6>  1914)  and  is  entitled  "  The  Toy  Band,"  *  and 
is  founded  on  an  episode  in  the  great  retreat  from  Mons. 


II 

The  address  delivered  by  Rudyard  Kipling  before  the 
students  of  McGill  University  at  Montreal  is  worthy  of 
preservation  as  a  classic  for  young  men.  For  whole- 
someness  of  spirit,  serenity  of  vision,  and  practicability 
of  advice,  it  is  not  to  be  matched  in  the  whole  of  Kipling's 
writings.  The  theme  of  this  discourse  touches  upon 
the  influence  of  the  man  who  does  not  desire  money. 
Most  men  who  have  added  to  the  literature  which  treats 
of  the  acquisition  of  wealth  with  contempt  have  been 
failures  in  real  life,  and  very  often  actual  burdens  upon 
society.  In  such  cases  we  are  apt  to  read  their  works 
with  an  interest  which  is  mingled  with  pity.  But  to 
Rudyard  Kipling  belongs  the  proud  achievement  of 
having  succeeded  as  a  man  of  business  as  well  as  a  man  of 
letters.  In  fact  he  has  written  in  late  years  so  copiously 
and  has  engaged  himself  in  publishing  controversies 
of  such  a  kind,  that  there  are  people  who  accuse  him 
of  taking  a  view  of  literature  which  seems  mercenary. 

•  The  incident  upon  which  this  poem  was  written  took  place  outside 
the  town  of  St.  Quentin  during  the  terrible — yet  magnificent — retreat 
from  Mons.  Five  hundred  weary  stragglers  were  induced  to  wake  and 
take  the  road  again,  when  some  toy  drums  were  secured  to  "  lift  their  feet." 
"  The  Weary  Big  Dragoon  "  of  this  poem  is  said  to  be  Major  Bridges, 
nephew  of  the  present  Poet  Laureate. 

151 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

This  is  a  somewhat  unfair  charge,  and  it  must  be  pointed 
out  that  Kipling's  books  are  not  among  those  novels 
that  sell  by  hundreds  of  thousands.  Besides,  a  large 
income  does  not  necessarily  imply  that  a  man  is  mercenary. 
The  "  Recessional,"  which  is  looked  upon  as  the  poetic 
climax  of  his  career,  certainly  was  not  written  with  any 
motives  of  gain.  The  journal  in  which  it  was  published 
sent  in  return  a  cheque  for  a  very  large  sum  to  the  author. 
Kipling  returned  this  cheque  and  informed  the  editor 
that  he  could  not  take  money  for  a  poem  on  such  a 
subject.  ..."  It  was  written  from  other  motives," 
he  explained.  He  did  not  wish  to  traffic  and  barter 
over  his  patriotism.  So  when  Kipling  told  the  youths 
at  McGill's  that  "  money  dominates  everybody  except 
the  man  who  does  not  want  money,"  he  was  by  no 
means  preaching  sentiments  which  he  had  not  tested 
and  practised  himself. 

It  can  safely  be  said  that  no  contemporary  man  of 
letters  has  contributed  so  many  phrases  to  the  vocabulary 
of  the  man  in  the  street,  a  fact  that  in  itself  proves  how 
fully  the  author  understands  the  "  common  touch." 
In  this  address  to  the  McGill  University  is  crystallized 
what  may  be  regarded  as  the  modern  spirit  of  chivalry, 
and  in  every  line  of  it  we  find  a  striking  phrase.  Could 
anything  be  simpler  than  the  language  of  this  passage, 
yet  could  anything  be  more  intense  ? 

Sooner  or  later  you  will  see  some  man  to  whom  the  idea  of  wealth,  as 
mere  wealth,  does  not  appeal,  whom  the  methods  of  amassing  that  wealth 
do  not  interest,  and  who  will  not  accept  money  if  you  offer  it  to  him  at  a 
certain  price  .  .  .  But  be  sure  that  whenever  or  wherever  you  meet  him, 
as  soon  as  it  comes  to  a  direct  issue  between  you,  his  little  finger  will  be 
thicker  than  your  loins.  You  will  go  in  fear  of  him  ;  he  will  not  go  in  fear 
of  you.  You  will  do  what  he  wants ;  he  will  not  do  what  you  want.  You 
will  find  that  you  have  no  weapon  in  your  armoury  with  which  you  can 
attack  him  ;  no  argument  with  which  you  can  appeal  to  him.  Whatever 
you  gain,  he  will  gain  more. 

Then  Kipling  goes  on  to  emphasize  the  doctrine  of 
152 


KIPLING'S   SPEECHES 

loyalty — ^loyalty  to  one's  self.  The  love  of  work  for 
work's  sake  ;  the  love  of  work  which  is  a  blending  of  the 
heart,  hand,  and  brain  can  never  quite  go  out  of  fashion. 
But  the  man  who  is  carried  away  from  all  that  is  noble 
in  a  mad  rush  for  wealth,  is  not  a  true  craftsman.  He 
may  succeed  in  every  venture  at  the  market-place  ;  he 
may  acquire  enormous  wealth,  but  in  the  end,  when  all 
is  summed  up,  he  can  only  be  looked  upon  or  written 
of  as  "  a  smart  man."  "  And  that  is  "  (so  Kipling  told 
the  students  of  McGill's)  "  one  of  the  most  terrible 
calamities  that  can  overtake  a  sane,  civilized  white  man 
to-day." 

In  spite  of  the  extravagant  language  of  this  statement, 
it  is  inspiring.  Only  use  one  hand  to  procure  wealth  ; 
keep  your  right  for  the  "  proper  work  in  life,"  for  Kipling 
says,  "  If  you  employ  both  arms  in  that  game  you  will 
be  in  danger  of  stooping  ;  in  danger  also  of  losing  your 
soul." 

There  is  also  a  passage  in  which  the  author  points  out 
that  youth  can  be  a  time  of  great  "  depression,  des- 
pondencies, doubts  and  waverings."  There  is  a  certain 
darkness  into  which  the  soul  of  youth  is  likely  to  drift — 
"  a  horror  of  desolation  and  abandonment — which 
always  seems  worse  because  this  depression  appears  to 
be  unique,  peculiar,  and  original  in  ourselves  and  in- 
communicable to  others.  We  must  fight  this  ogre  tooth 
and  nail,  says  Kipling,  and  if  the  black  cloud  will  not 
lift,  we  must  take  comfort  in  the  fact  that  "  there  are  no 
liars  like  our  own  sensations." 

The  cure  which  he  prescribes  for  this  "  most  real  of 
the  hells,"  which  man  is  sometimes  compelled  to  live 
in,  is  to  enter  into  the  sorrows  or,  preferably,  the  joys  of 
some  other  man.  To  bear  a  stranger's  grief  ;  to  under- 
stand another's  loss  and  calamity  ;  to  drink  the  hemlock 
with  the  outcast  and  the  wayfarer,  is  to  begin  to  fully 
understand  that  "  there  are  no  liars  like  our  own  sensa- 


tions." 


153 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

To  quote  from  this  delightful  address  is  to  completely 
ruin  it,  so  those  who  are  interested  must  look  it  up  in  the 
British  Weekly  or  Ladies^  Home  Journal  (America)  for 
March  1908. 

Ill 

Have  you  ever  started  out  on  an  unknown  trail  ? 
Have  you  ever  said  good-bye  to  friends  feeling  you  had 
naught  to  bind  your  heart-strings,  and  started  out  on 
that  blind  track  where  naught  greets  you  but  space  and 
skyline  as  the  last  outpost  of  civilization  fades,  leaving 
your  restless  eager  feet  tramping  unparcelled  lands  from 
dawn  to  the  "  live  blackness  of  a  starlight  night  ?  " 
Have  you  smelt  the  smell  of  piled-up  deals  when  they  are 
loading  Pacific-coast  lumber  ?  Have  you  heard  ship 
cables  fret  and  creak,  and  ropes  stir  and  sigh,  or  have  you 
squatted  on  the  dock  bollards  and  listened  to  the  fellows 
singing  the  old  randy-dandy  deep-sea  tunes,  as  they  paint 
and  chip  off  the  deep-sea  rust  a-swinging  over  the  side 
of  their  vessels  ?  Have  you  wandered  in  strange  Eastern 
cities,  and  peered  into  wonder-houses  where  carved  ivory 
gods  and  robes  of  purple  dye  are  sold  ?  Do  you  know 
where  to  buy  wonderful  lucid  china  cups  all  scriptured 
round  with  winged  serpents  ?  Have  you  ever  felt 
and  exulted  in  the  feeling  that  now,  for  the  first  time, 
your  life  is  in  your  own  hands,  and  you  are  captain  of 
your  own  soul  ?  Have  you  spent  nights  in  the  lonely 
cabin,  with  a  faint  and  oily  lamp  swinging  above  your 
head  during  a  long  wintry  passage  round  Cape  Horn  ? 
Have  you  felt  what  it  is  to  be  a  man,  my  son  ?  If  such 
has  been  your  experience,  you  must  read  Kipling's  lecture 
before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  on  "  Some 
Aspects  of  Travel."  You  will  thrill  as  you  read  it. 
Kipling  informed  his  audience  on  this  occasion,  that  he 
had  noticed  that  what  travellers  told  the  public  in  print 
was  one  thing,  and  what  they  told  their  friends  by  word 
of  mouth  was  another  ;   he  therefore  had  tried  to  deal 

154 


KIPLING'S   SPEECHES 

with  some  of  the  more  intimate  and  personal,  though 
they  might  be  trivial,  aspects  of  travel. 

Lord  Curzon,  in  introducing  the  lecturer,  said  that 
great  travellers  had  sometimes — perhaps  rather  more 
frequently  than  vs^as  generally  supposed — been  great 
men  of  letters,  and  the  writings  of  some  of  the  most 
famous  travellers  in  the  world,  from  Herodotus  down  to 
Kinglake  and  Doughty  in  our  own  times,  had  also  been 
masterpieces  of  literature.  That  evening  they  were  to 
have  presented  the  inverse  phenomenon,  and  a  great 
man  of  letters,  one  of  the  foremost  whom  our  race  had 
produced,  was  to  show  that  he,  too,  had  tasted  the  joys, 
understood  the  romance,  and  penetrated  the  secrets 
of  travel. 

The  address  was  meant  rather  for  the  explorer  and  the 
pioneer  than  for  the  commonplace  traveller  ;  but  he 
talked  of  many  things  of  the  deepest  interest  to  all  who 
have  sailed  or  marched,  and,  like  Kipling's  "  Tommy," 
have  hugged  themselves  in  sheer  intoxication  with  the 
love  of  life  and  adventure  : 

Gawd  bless  the  world  !    Whatever  she  hath  done — 

Except  when  awful  long — Vve  found  it  good. 
So  write,  before  I  die,  ^E  liked  it  alW^ 

Love  of  energy  is  the  axis  of  Kipling's  mind,  and /this 
speech  was  his  soul's  confession.  Even  as  you  read  his 
words  seem  almost  transparent,  fading  into  a  visible 
picture  before  you  ;  ghosts  of  the  scenes  described.  You 
can  see  the  man  in  the  saddle  and  the  mariner  at  the 
wheel,  and  you  can  feel  the  salt  wind  blowing  in  the 
master's  word- workings. 

He  tells  us  of  pressure-lines,  those  somewhat  indefinable 
ghosts  or  mental  pictures  which  haunt  the  traveller  who 
is  under  the  strain  of  continuous  and  exhausting  move- 
ment. Kipling  has  before  unfolded  this  state  of  mind 
in  that  daring  experiment  in  rhythm,  "  Boots."  The 
half  delirious  Tommy  on  the  march  in  the  South  African 

155 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

War  struggling  on  doggedly  in  a  world  where  he  sees 
nothing  but  "  Boots — boots — boots — boots,  moving  up 
and  down  again."  To  the  leader  of  an  expedition,  or  the 
head  of  a  scientific  survey,  the  lines  may  appear  as  a 
ribbon  of  road  unrolling  behind  them,  or  a  straight  bar 
across  the  vision  which  constantly  draws  nearer. 

There  is  also  another  good  example  of  this  phenomenon 
in  Kipling's  story  of  the  Goorkhas  who  came  to  mount 
guard  at  the  lying-in-state  of  King  Edward  VII.  It  was 
found  necessary  to  leave  one  Goorkha  to  take  all  his 
comrades'  guards,  one  after  the  other,  till  they  returned 
from  their  pilgrimage  to  Windsor  Castle.  He  endured 
the  terrific  strain  of  the  countless  thousands  of  feet — 
*'  the  most  terrible  feet  of  the  multitude  " — for  many 
hours.  With  eyes  abased  he  saw  nothing  but  the  river 
of  feet.  When  the  man  came  off  his  guard  his  eyeballs 
"  worked  like  weavers'  shuttles  "  as  he  counted  thousands 
of  phantom  feet.  These  images  were  what  Kipling 
calls  pressure-lines. 

The  Times  in  an  editorial  article  added  to  Kipling's 
examples  the  feelings  which  almost  invariably  overtake 
the  conventional  wanderer : 

It  is  a  sense  of  utter  weariness,  the  gradual  growth  of  indifference  to 
externals,  a  consciousness  of  blurred  impressions,  an  unwillingness  to  see 
more.  There  are  no  definite  pressure-lines,  perhaps,  but  there  is  the 
kind  of  mental  exhaustion  which  would  develop  in  a  man  who  tried  to  look 
successively  at  all  the  pictures  in  the  Louvre  on  a  single  day.  Why  un- 
travelled  doctors  should  so  constantly  recommend  tired  elderly  gentlemen 
to  go  round  the  world  is  an  abiding  puzzle  to  those  who  have  done  the 
thing.  Except  in  ardent  and  receptive  youth,  the  world  should  be  taken 
piecemeal,  and  not  at  one  swift  swoop.  Mr.  Kipling  thinks  the  time  is 
near  at  hand  when  men  will  literally  soar  and  swoop  round  the  world  in 
one  long  flight.  If  that  is  so,  we  venture  to  predict  that  on  their  return 
they  will  only  have  very  vague  new  conceptions  of  the  terrestial  globe. 
Except  for  the  thrilling  memory  of  their  rush  through  the  upper  air,  their 
notions  of  the  world  will  very  much  resemble  the  mind-pictures  of  imaginary 
travel,  the  pleasures  of  which  Mr.  Kipling  rightly  extolled.  Like  Stevenson, 
most  men  "  can  voyage  in  an  atlas  with  the  greatest  enjoyment."  Mr. 
Kipling  has  made  the  interesting  experiment  of  asking  men  who  had  not 

IS6 


KIPLING'S   SPEECHES 

been  there  what  picture  or  diagram  the  words  "  He  went  down  to  the 
Cape  "  summoned  to  their  minds.  We  are  surprised  that  the  answers 
did  not  include  a  vision  of  a  flat-topped  mountain  crowned  with  a  wisp 
of  white  cloud.  Many  who  have  been  to  the  Antipodes  will  not  endorse 
his  mental  shorthand  of  the  run  to  Australia.  For  them  it  is  a  zigzag  of 
five,  not  three,  and  the  lines  run  :  London — Gibraltar  ;  Gibraltar — ^Port 
Said  ;  Port  Said — ^Aden  ;  Aden — Colombo  ;  Colombo — Fremantle.  The 
call  at  Colombo  is  a  vivid  and  welcome  stage.  There  is  one  definite  image 
which  lives  in  the  minds  of  some  of  those  who  have  made  the  long,  stormy 
midwinter  passage  by  the  northerly  route  across  the  Pacific.  It  is  like 
sailing  uneasily  along  the  rim  of  the  earth. 

One  of  other  matters  commented  on  in  this  lecture  is 
that  of  the  various  smells  in  their  relation  to  the  pioneer 
and  traveller.  This  is  an  old  and  favourite  topic  with 
Kipling,  and  how  enchantingly  does  he  discourse  on  the 
smells — those  smells  that  mean  everything  to  the  dis- 
tressed traveller.  Above  all  other  smells,  he  says,  those 
of  burning  wood  and  melting  grease  must  be  placed 
first,  for  they  are  of  universal  appeal ;  they  call  up  to  the 
mind  the  magical  camp-fire  and  the  cooking  of  the 
evening  meal.  Among  other  odours  he  mentions  the 
smell  of  camel — pure  camel,  one  whiff  of  which  is  all,  all 
Arabia  ;  the  smell  of  rotten  eggs  at  Hitt,  on  the  Eu- 
phrates, where  Noah  got  the  pitch  for  the  ark,  and  the 
flavour  of  drying  fish  in  Burma.  He  has  also  said  that 
the  smell  of  the  Himalayas  ever  calls  a  man  back. 

"  Smells  are  surer  than  lights  or  sounds,"  *  sings  a 
trooper  of  the  N.S.W.  contingent  engaged  in  the  Boer 
War  as  his  native  land  flashes  into  remembrance  with 
the  scent  of  wattle.  And  does  not  his  time-expired 
soldier  recall  the  "  spicy  garlic  smells  "  of  Burma  ? 

The  ^imes  supplements  Kipling's  list  of  smells  in  the 
following  forcible  passage : 

But  surely  there  are  other  smells,  less  material  in  their  appeal,  which 
almost  come  within  the  range  of  his  definition  ?  One  is  the  first  chill  smell 
of  mountains,  especially  when  the  heights  are  reached  towards  sunset  or 

*  "  Lichtenberg  "  verses  in  "  The  Five  Nations." 

157 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

after  dark.  Another  is  the  odour  of  a  forest,  of  which  it  has  been  said 
that  "  of  all  the  smells  in  the  world,  the  smell  of  many  trees  is  the  sweetest 
and  the  most  fortifying."  Both  awake  in  mankind  dim,  unconscious 
memories  of  primeval  life,  when  the  race  had  not  sheltered  itself  beneath 
roofs  and  behind  shutters.  But  the  smells  of  travel  are  indeed  innumerable. 
The  voyager  gets  his  first  real  whiff  of  the  East  when  he  lands  at  Aden,  and 
drives  along  a  dusty  road  to  the  bazaar  within  the  Crater.  It  lingers  in 
his  nostrils  for  evermore.  On  the  coast  of  Burma  and  down  the  Straits 
the  air  is  redolent  of  rotten  fish  and  over-ripe  fruit.  Tropical  jungles  leave 
keen,  olfactory  memories  of  decaying  vegetation.  The  smell  of  Chinese 
villages  is  like  nothing  else  in  the  world,  but  the  odd  thing  is  that  to  the 
true  traveller  it  soon  ceases  to  be  disagreeable.  There  is  one  smell  which 
is  unique.  To  encounter  it,  one  must  be  steaming  through  the  Straits  of 
Bab-el-Mandeb  on  a  hot,  still  night  in  July  or  August — one  of  those  nights 
when  it  is  impossible  to  stay  below  and  the  deck  is  strewn  with  sleeping 
forms.  Towards  dawn,  as  one  is  tossing  restlessly  from  side  to  side,  one 
is  aware  of  a  strange,  dank  odour  arising  from  the  scummy  waters.  It 
suggests  a  stagnant  duck-pond,  but  in  reality  the  ship  is  passing  through 
the  lees  of  a  mighty  ocean,  swept  into  one  small  corner.  All  along  the  coast 
of  Southern  Arabia,  where  few  ships  go,  the  same  smell  is  met  in  lesser 
degree.  Wreckage  is  carried  thither,  and  the  trunks  of  trees  and  immense 
masses  of  weeds  ;  and  often  may  be  seen  strange  fish  leaping  from  the  oily 
surface,  or  a  spouting  whale  or  two,  or  a  turtle  floating  asleep,  for  the 
deserted  backwash  of  the  southern  seas  swarms  with  marine  life. 

The  day  of  adventure  is  not  past  yet,  but  Kipling 
somewhat  mournfully  speaks  of  the  time  of  the  coming 
mastery  of  the  air.  Then  we  shall  have  reached  the  golden 
age  of  travel,  when  a  journey  to  the  Pole  will  be  a  day's 
excursion  with  "  neither  sweat  nor  suffering."  It  is  a 
question  whether  he  is  quite  right  in  supposing  that  we 
shall  then  be  freed  from  the  "  checks  that  have  hitherto 
conditioned  all  our  travels."  New  conditions  will  evolve 
new  dangers  and  discomforts,  and  the  very  adventurous 
spirit  which  filled  the  old  pioneer  will  be  needed  just  as 
much  when  leaping  and  flying  mechanical  dragons  shall 
have  abolished  terrestrial  space. 

The  Times  comments  on  Kipling's  prophecy  as  follows : 

Will  travel,  for  instance,  be  less  of  a  trial  or  a  discipline  to  the  temper 
when  we  can  all  soar  upwards  and  forsake  muddy  roads  and  the  grit  and 

IS8 


« 


KIPLING'S   SPEECHES 

dust  of  railways  and  the  discomforts  of  the  sea  ?  Mountaineers  know 
very  well  the  splenetic  irritability  which  often  assails  them  when  the  tree- 
line  is  passed  ;  and  we  seem  to  have  heard  that  airmen  do  not  always  find 
that  a  flight  in  the  empyrean  produces  in  them  a  holy  calm.  Mr.  Kipling 
recognizes  that  the  earth  is  shrinking  actually  and  in  imagination,  that 
we  are  cutting  down  the  world  conception  of  time  and  space,  and  that  "  the 
new  machines  are  outstripping  mankind  "  ;  but  his  robust  optimism  leads 
him  to  hope  that  when  humanity  can  get  its  breath  all  will  be  well  again. 

Kipling  also  referred  to  the  choice  of  companions. 
What  qualities  must  a  leader  of  men  have  ?  He  partly 
answered  the  question  in  this  way  : 

A  man  had  been  asked  why  he  invariably  followed  a  well-known  man 
into  the  most  uncomfortable  situations ;  he  had  replied  :  "  All  the  years 
I  have  known  So-and-So,  I've  never  known  him  to  say  whether  he  was  cold 
or  hot,  wet  or  dry,  sick  or  well,  but  I've  never  known  him  forget  a  man 
who  was. 

Besides  that  indefinable  quality  which  compels  men  to 
follow  him,  the  leader  must  have,  says  Kipling,  self- 
reliance,  self-sacrifice,  loyalty,  a  robust  view  of  moral 
obligations ;  and  a  not  too  keen  instinct  for  visualizing 
the  dangers  by  the  way.  He  must  live  alone  and  inside 
himself.  Every  leader  must  be  something  of  a  visionary, 
a  man  who  is  neither  pure  dreamer  nor  plain  doer.  A 
being  whose  eyes  are  unwaveringly  focused  on  the  in- 
finite and  yet  clearly  sees  what  lies  at  his  feet. 


159 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  ROMANCE  OF  SEA  LIFE 

Anglo-Saxon  people  and  their  love  of  the  sea  :  The  fascination  of 
ships :  Ruskin's  "  Harbours  of  England  "  :  The  romance  of  modern 
sea  life  :  Swinburne  :  Kipling  as  a  chantey-man  :  Lord  Arnaldos 
and  the  phantom  sailor  :  A  literary  dispute  as  the  inspiration  of 
"  The  Rhyme  of  the  Three  Captains "  :  Hardy,  Besant,  and 
Black  :  Paul  Jones  :  Sir  Walter  Besant  and  Robert  Buchanan  :  A 
controversy  in  the  Contemporary  Review  :  Kipling's  militarism. 


r 


The  sea  drives  truth  into  a  man  like  salt.  A 
coward  cannot  long  pretend  to  be  brave  at  sea, 
nor  a  fool  to  be  wise,  nor  a  frig  to  be  a  good 
companion  ;  and  any  venture  connected  with  the 
sea  is  full  of  venture,  and  can  pretend  to  be 
nothing  more. 

HiLAiRE  Belloc. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  SEA  LIFE 

Everybody,  I  imagine,  in  these  islands  loves  the  sea, 
though  it  only  be  something  to  look  at  from  the  security 
of  the  sunny  beach  ;  but  the  really  intimate  lover  of  the 
sea  cannot  think  of  it  v^ithout  an  instant  vision  of  ships 
and  those  vi^ho  do  their  business  on  the  great  vi^aters. 
To  him  ships  and  the  sea  are  one  and  indivisible  ;  his 
imagination  ever  sees  the  ghost  of  some  ship  v^ith  tav^ny 
yards  he  used  to  know.  He  smells  the  tar  and  hears  the 
faint  and  distant  sound  of  a  shadov^  watch  a-hauling. 
But  this  perception  can  seldom  be  acquired;  it  is  a 
growth  having  root  in  youth.  The  child  whose  eyes 
opened  within  sight  of  the  sea,  and  who  grew  up  with 
its  majestic  influence,  has  in  his  heart  for  ever  something 
of  its  mystery  and  wonder.  I  have  met  some  people 
for  whom  ships  and  the  sea  have  the  same  fascination  as 
did  horses  for  the  sporting  fellow  in  the  elegant  white 
hat  whom  David  Copperfield  encountered  on  the 
Canterbury  mail  coach.  They  were  to  that  gentleman 
"  wittles  and  drink  .  .  .  lodging,  wife  and  children, 
reading,  writing  and  'rithmetic,  snuff,  tobacker  and 
sleep."  Of  course  the  fascination  of  ships  may  some- 
times come  to  people  who  are  not  sea  rovers,  as  in  the 
case  of  such  a  man  as  Ruskin.  Ruskin  caught  a  true 
glimpse  of  the  great  vision  of  the  sea,  his  "  Harbours  of 
England  "  must  be  regarded  as  a  noble  seafaring  book. 
How  far  distant  was  he  from  the  bluff  seaman  in  oilies 
at  the  wheel  ?  Who  can  say  ?  But  he  saw  the  magic 
of  the  waters  as  few  men  ever  see  them,  and  presented 

163 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

it  to  us  in  printed  page  as  hardly  any  man  can  ever  hope 
to  do  again.  To  him  ships  and  boats  in  their  vast 
succession  and  continuity — as  they  have  passed  down  the 
ages — appeared  as  a  pageant,  a  spectacle,  v^herein  every 
curve  and  bend  is  not  only  a  marvel  in  itself,  but  the 
embodiment  of  a  v^^hole  magic  plexus  of  secret  influences, 
ideas,  traditions,  and  revolts.  The  little  undecked  sea- 
boat  v^as  to  him  the  utmost  of  human  achievement,  the 
perfection  adaptation  of  means  to  ends.  The  boat's 
bov^,  he  has  told  us,  is  "  naively  perfect."  The  man  v^^ho 
made  it  knew  not  he  was  making  anything  beautiful  as 
he  bent  its  planks  into  those  mysterious,  ever-changing 
curves.  It  grows  under  his  hand  into  the  image  of  a 
sea-shell ;  the  seal,  as  it  were,  of  the  flowing  of  the 
great  tides  and  streams  of  ocean  stamped  on  its  delicate 
rounding.  He  leaves  it,  when  all  is  done,  without  a 
boast.  It  is  simple  work,  but  it  will  keep  out  water. 
And  every  plank  thenceforward  is  a  Fate,  and  has  men's 
lives  wreathed  in  the  knots  of  it,  as  the  clothyard  shaft 
has  their  deaths  in  its  plumes.  .  .  .  The  nails  that 
fasten  together  the  planks  are  the  rivets  of  the  fellowship 
of  the  world.  Their  iron  does  more  than  draw  lightning 
out  of  heaven  ;  it  leads  love  round  the  earth. 

Ruskin  has  pointed  out  that  it  is  a  curious  thing  that 
few  great  painters  have  taken  the  trouble  to  inform 
themselves  accurately  in  the  drawing  of  ships ;  but  an 
accurate  drawing  in  detail  of  a  ship  would  not  come  up 
to  the  artistic  demands  ;  with  the  artist  the  spirit  of  the 
thing  is  everything.  I  heard  on  one  occasion  some  one 
say  in  answer  to  Ruskin's  criticism,  "  It  would  be  about 
as  absurd  for  a  painter  to  put  in  all  the  details  of  a  ship 
as  for  a  poet  to  describe  them  all."  But  literature  was 
only  waiting  for  a  man  who  was  clever  enough  to  take 
all  the  terms  and  technicalities  of  sea  lingo  and  weld  it 
into  poetry  without  appearing  absurd.  And  it  was 
Rudyard  Kipling  who  stepped  into  the  arena.  He  came 
to  show  us  that  there  is  as  much  poetry  and  romance  to 
164 


THE    ROMANCE   OF   SEA    LIFE 

be  woven  into  the  speech  and  detail  of  modern  sea  life 
as  there  was  in  the  days  when  the  wooden  walls  of 
England  sailed  under  Drake  and  Nelson. 

The  ship  has  for  Kipling  an  endless  fascination,  and 
particularly  from  the  scientific  and  modern  machine- 
made  age  point  of  view.  No  doubt  it  was  some  while 
before  Kipling  found  the  magic  of  getting  heart-throbs 
out  of  a  steamship's  propeller,  but  he  knew  that  some  one 
had  to  start  on  it,  for  English  poets  could  not  go  on 
writing  poems  about  the  wooden  walls  of  England 
without  limit.  So  he  gave  us  new  randy-dandy  deep-sea 
songs  such  as  ''  M' Andrews'  Hymn,"  "  The  Destroyers," 
and  "  The  Rhyme  of  the  Three  Sealers."  And  we  must 
make  our  acknowledgment  of  the  call  of  the  sea — the 
seven  seas — with  which  every  line  of  his  poetry  is  instinct. 
Sometimes,  Kipling  seems  to  write  of  the  sea  with  an 
almost  contemptuous  knowledge  of  the  sheer  pictorial 
qualities  of  woods  which  no  other  living  verse-maker 
possesses.  Take  "  The  Sea  and  the  Hills,"  in  which  he 
gives  us  a  wonderful  marine  picture :  "  Who  hath 
desired  the  sea  ? — the  immense  and  contemptuous 
surges  ?  "  How  many  paintings  of  great  artists  pass 
through  our  minds  in  helpless  competition  with  the 
"  star-stabbing  "  hexameters  of  this  poem  ? 

Again,  take  "  White  Horses,"  which  might  have  been 
written  as  a  literary  commentary  on  one  of  Watts' 
pictures. 

In  his  verses  of  the  sea  Kipling,  like  Swinburne,  takes 
up  the  modern  attitude.  It  is  remarkable  to  find  that 
neither  the  Greeks  nor  Romans,  nor  our  own  Elizabethan 
writers,  expressed  any  lucid  perceptions  of  the  mystery 
and  grandeur  of  the  sea,  though  in  Shakespeare  we  can 
trace  a  few  references  to  it  that  show  power  and  genius. 
It  has  been  stated  that  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
centuries  had  little  imaginative  sense  of  the  great  waters, 
though  some  fine  objective  songs  of  the  sea  have  been 
handed  down  from  those  periods.     It  was  the  revival  of 

i6s 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

the  purely  romantic  in  poetry  in  the  nineteenth  century 
that  produced  certain  writers  who  have  made  the  sea  a 
living  thing,  and  two  of  the  greatest  of  these  are  Rudyard 
Kipling  and  Swinburne.  They  see  with  different  eyes, 
but  both  are  inspired  by  almost  the  same  spirit.  Take 
this  passage  from  Swinburne's  "  By  the  North  Sea  "  : 

The  wastes  of  the  wild  sea  inarches 

Where  the  borderers  are  matched  in  their  might, 

Bleak  fens  that  the  sun's  weight  parches. 

Dense  waves  that  reject  his  light, 

Change  under  the  change-coloured  arches 

Of  changeless  morning  and  night. 

Here  it  will  be  noticed  is  the  same  sad  undertone 
which  finds  expression  in  so  much  of  Kipling's  sea 
poetry.  Kipling  does  not  often  sing  of  the  sea  in  a 
swaggering  Jingo  vein,  in  fact  his  constant  association  of 
the  sea  with  death  is  a  dominant  note.  Something 
wonderful  in  its  grim  awfulness  is  the  "  price  of  ad- 
miralty "  which  has  to  be  paid  by  casting  "  our  best 
to  the  weed's  unrest,  to  the  shark  and  the  sheering 
gull."  His  eye  pierces  the  ocean  depths  where  our 
English  dead  sleep  down  in  the  dark,  in  the  utter  dark, 
''  where  the  blind  white  sea  snakes  are." 

Perhaps  the  most  typical  of  all  his  sea  pieces  is  that 
in  which  he  sings  how  seven  men  took  the  Bolivar,  a 
coffin  screw-steamer  carrying  a  shifting  cargo  of  rails 
from  Sunderland  to  Bilbao.  It  is  a  remarkable  descrip- 
tion of  the  heroic  exertions  of  rough  men  inspired  by 
no  heroic  faith,  but  purely  prompted  by  the  dogged, 
headstrong,  rebellious  spirit  which  makes  the  British 
sailormen  the  finest  fighting  material  in  the  world. 
Such  men  are  characteristic  heroes  of  Kipling  and  he 
tells  with  gusto  how  they  shepherded  the  crazy  steamer, 
''  leaking  like  a  lobster-pot,  steering  like  a  dray,"  safely 
back  home : 

Just  a  pack  6*  rotten  plates  puttied  up  with  tar, 
In  we  came,  arC  time  enough,  ''cross  Bilbao  Bar  ; 

i66 


THE   ROMANCE   OF   SEA    LIFE 

Overloaded,  undermanned,  meant  to  founder,  we 
Euchred  God  Almighty'' s  storm,  bluffed  the  Eternal  Sea  ! 

To  the  Seven  Seas  themselves  Kipling  has  made  but 
scant  reference.  They  are  alluded  to  in  two  of  his 
poems,  but  are  not  named  in  any.  In  the  *'  Neolithic 
Age  "  he  tells  us  that  the  ''  vi^orld  is  wondrous  large,- — 
seven  seas  from  marge  to  marge,"  that  it  holds  an  extra- 
ordinary assortment  of  men,  and  that  the  ''  wildest 
dreams  of  Kew  are  the  facts  of  Khatmandhu,  and  the 
crimes  of  Clapham  chaste  in  Martaban."  The  sea  to 
Kipling  is  at  once  a  symbol  of  beauty,  of  fate,  and  of 
doom.  It  is  immutable,  and  yet  for  ever  changing, 
giving  delight  to  men  one  moment  and  snatching  at 
their  lives  the  next  moment.  And  yet  Kipling  bears  no 
bitterness  to  the  wide  waters  which  are  for  ever  hunger- 
ing after  the  best  of  our  breed,  and  in  "  The  Flowers  " 
he  enjoins  those  whose  homes  are  set  round  the  Seven 
Seas  to  learn  to  love  and  understand  all  the  passing 
moods  which  are  reflected  in  them  ;  to  accept  her 
ravenous  cruelty,  sublime  inscrutableness,  and  incon- 
sistency without  protest.  In  his  passion  for  the  sea 
Kipling  is  the  essentially  national  modern  poet,  and  it 
is  right  fitting  that  the  Laureate  of  the  British  Race 
should  also  be  the  Laureate  of  the  Wide  Waters.  Next 
to  Kipling  comes  Swinburne,  who  in  moods  of  despon- 
dency always  turned  to  the  sea,  which  was  saluted  by 
him  in  splendid  verse  : 

A  land  that  is  thirstier  than  r%dn, 
A  sea  that  is  hungrier  than  death. 
Heaped  hills  that  a  tree  never  grew  in. 
Wide  sands  where  the  sea  draws  breath  ; 
All  solace  is  here  for  the  spirit 
That  ever  Jor  ever  may  be. 
For  the  soul  of  thy  son  to  inherit. 
My  mother,  my  sea. 

Mr.  W.  B.  Whare,  master  mariner,  in  a  preface  to 
"  Ships  and  Sea  Songs,"  tells  us  that  Kipling  would  have 

167 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

made  a  splendid  chantey-man.  In  "  Frankie's  Trade  " 
the  refrain :  "  A-hoy  O  !  To  me  O  !  "  is  a  reflection 
of  the  true  sea  chantey.  And  in  the  "  Wet  Litany  "  we 
have  the  new  spirit  in  sea  verse. 

Whenever  I  think  of  the  sea  songs  and  chanties,  there 
come  into  my  mind  some  verses  about  Lord  Arnaldos 
who,  while  out  hunting,  heard  a  phantom  sailor  singing 
one  of  those  queer  old  tunes  that  all  seamen  sing  when 
the  world  is  young.  It  was  one  of  those  songs  which 
carry  the  imagination  to  enchanted  islands,  and  the 
Lord  Arnaldos  spoke  to  the  phantom  sea  voice  asking 
him  what  manner  of  ditty  he  chanted.  Here  is  the  last 
verse  : 

"  Tell  me  for  God's  sake,  sailor. 

What  song  may  that  song  be  F  " 

The  sailor  spake  in  answer. 

And  answer  thus  made  he  : 

"  /  only  tell  my  song  to  those 

Who  sail  away  with  meP 

That  is  the  secret  and  Kipling  has  realized  it  ;  he  has 
sailed  away  with  the  sailor  upon  desperate  voyages,  and 
has  acquired  the  mystery,  the  wonder,  and  the  song  of 
the  sea. 

Hilaire  Belloc  has  told  us  that  the  "  sea  drives  truth 
into  a  man  like  salt,"  and  I  might  add  to  this  and  say 
that  Kipling's  marine  verses  are  salted  with  the  salt  of 
truth.  They  are  saturated  with  philosophy,  and  of 
course  they  are  rather  chameleonic,  but  he  does  not 
allow  art  to  oust  truth.  His  craftsmanship  is  based  on 
one  pellucid  conviction : 

^ure  the  wisest  plan  is  to  live  [and  to  write"}  like  a  man. 
And  luck  may  look  after  the  rest. 

It  is  certainly  no  mere  chance  that  the  especial  poet 
and  glorifier  of  the  men  who  go  down  to  the  sea  to  work 
ships  should  even  conduct  his  literary  disputes  in  slang 
of  the  sailor.  It  is  perhaps  not  generally  known  that 
1 68 


THE   ROMANCE   OF   SEA   LIFE 

"  The  Rhyme  of  the  Three  Captains  "  is  a  protest 
against  the  losses  English  authors  suffer  at  the  hands  of 
American  publishers.  Whilst  a  controversy  was  taking 
place  in  the  pages  of  the  AthencBum  in  1890  over  the 
wiles  of  American  publishers  regarding  the  publica- 
tion of  the  work  of  English  authors,  Kipling  wrote  and 
complained  that  a  certain  American  house  had  some 
years  before  printed  some  of  his  stories  in  book  form 
without  asking  his  permission,  or  paying  him  any  royalties 
on  the  issue  of  the  volumes.  The  defence  of  this  firm 
was  that  the  stories  had  been  bought  from  Kipling's 
representative.  But  Kipling  explained  that  the  serial 
rights  of  these  stories  did  not  carry  with  them  the  leave 
to  publish  them  in  a  volume,  and  in  his  letter  to  the 
Athenceum^  he  pointed  out  that  the  source  of  the  trouble 
did  not  lie  with  this  or  that  particular  "  picaroon " 
across  the  water.  "  The  high  sea  of  literature  was 
unprotected,"  and  authors  had  to  run  the  risk  of  being 
robbed.  He  remarked  that  if  this  firm  had  not  plundered 
him,  some  other  publisher  would  have  done  so,  but 
complained  that  "  a  pretentiously  moral  pirate  "  caused 
him  to  waste  time  and  money,  whereas  the  real  Paul 
Jones  he  would  have  disregarded  in  the  first  place. 

In  a  week  or  so  another  contribution  to  the  controversy 
appeared  above  the  signatures  of  three  literary  giants : 
Walter  Besant,  William  Black,  and  Thomas  Hardy.  It 
was  a  testimony  to  the  effect  that  the  firm  alluded  to 
by  a  certain  author  (Kipling)  had  a  good  reputation  and 
had  always  treated  the  foreign  author  justly,  in  spite  of 
the  indefensible  omissions  of  the  American  law  in  the 
protection  of  the  works  of  English  writers.  "  The 
Rhyme  of  the  Three  Captains  "  was  Rudyard  Kipling's 
somewhat  acrid  reply  to  these  gentlemen,  who  are  set 
forth  in  the  poem  as  "  Lord  of  the  Wessex  Coast " 
(Hardy),  "  Master  of  the  Thames  "  (Besant),  "  Admiral 
of  the  North  "  (Black). 

Again  in  line  88  of  this  poem  is  an  example  of  Kipling's 

169 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

banter :  *'  The  bezant  is  hard,  ay,  and  black,"  is,  of 
course,  a  shameless  pun  on  the  names  of  the  three  great 
writers — Besant,  Hardy,  and  Black.  Also  in  line  77, 
''  Chaplain  of  the  Fleet  "  is  an  echo  of  Besant's  well- 
known  novel. 

This  poem  deals  with  an  exploit  of  the  famous  Paul 
Jones  whose  body  was  discovered  some  years  ago,  after 
a  six-years  search,  by  the  American  Ambassador  to 
France,  in  the  old  St.  Louis  Cemetery  in  Paris.  In 
many  English  papers  the  usual  epithet  "  pirate  "  was 
applied  to  him  once  more  ;  but  he  was  much  more  than 
that  ;  indeed,  strictly,  he  was  never  a  pirate  at  all.  It 
is  true  that  he  was  born  a  British  subject,  so  that  when 
he  fought  against  England  he  was  technically  a  traitor. 
But  he  always  fought  honourably,  and  was  the  founder 
of  the  American  navy.  The  fight  between  his  old  ship, 
the  Bonne  Homme  Richard^  and  the  fine  British  man-of- 
war,  the  Serapis,  in  which  Paul  Jones  won,  is  one  of  the 
finest  fights  on  record.  He  was  a  man  who  had  the 
fighting  passion  in  his  blood  ;  no  odds  could  make  him 
afraid  ;  he  went  into  battle  like  a  boy  going  to  the 
wicket. 

It  is  a  curious  thing  that  Sir  Walter  Besant  should  a 
^  few  years  later  take  up  the  cudgels  in  defence  of  the 
literature  and  morals  of  Kipling.  During  a  controversy 
conducted  in  the  Contemporary  Review  *  in  1900,  Mr. 
Robert  Buchanan  attacked  Kipling  and  protested  against 
the  abuse  of  talent  by  pandering  to  the  fury  of  the 
hour,  and  Sir  Walter  Besant  complained  that  literary 
men  should  attack  one  another,  while  in  all  other  pro- 
fessions etiquette  prevented  criticism.  To  which  Mr. 
Buchanan  replied : 

In  the  medical  profession,  for  example,  there  is,  I  believe,  a  professional 
etiquette  which  forbids  one  practitioner,  on  being  called  in  to  a  patient 
who  is  dying  through  the  ignorance  and  malpractice  of  another  practitioner, 
apprising  those  concerned  of  such  ignorance  and  malpractice  !     An  etiquette 

*  February. 
170 


THE   ROMANCE   OF   SEA   LIFE 

of  the  same  sort,  according  to  Sir  Walter,  forbids  a  man  of  letters  avowing 
his  detestation  of  a  Hooliganism  which,  he  believes,  is  not  merely  causing 
the  death  of  one  sick  individual,  but  is  sowing  the  whole  world  broadcast 
with  butchered  and  martyred  men. 

Having  justified  criticism  thus,  Robert  Buchanan  then 
says  some  very  severe  things  about  Sir  Walter  Besant : 

Since  Sir  Walter  Besant  has  chosen  to  express  his  honest  admiration  of 
Fire,  Famine,  and  Slaughter,  and  to  cite  chapter  and  verse  from  a  great 
Poet  in  support  of  his  case  and  that  of  a  Church  which  is  now  crying  havoc 
to  the  War-wolves,  let  me  show  the  hopelessness  of  any  agreement  between 
us  by  frankly  answering  him  to  this  effect — that  I  take  my  stand  on  the 
belief  that  there  is  no  worse  evil  than  War,  and  that  all  the  talk  of  its  power 
to  purify  a  nation  or  an  individual  is  the  veriest  and  foulest  Cant.  Two 
blacks  never  yet  made  a  white,  nor  any  two  wrongs  a  right,  and  disguise 
the  truth  under  what  phrases  we  may.  War  is  simply  Murder  with  another 
name.  That  is  my  belief,  and  if  that  belief  is  false,  every  word  which  I 
have  written  concerning  Mr.  Kipling  is  false  as  well. 

Under  one  condition  only  is  the  slaying  of  our  fellow  men  justifiable,  or 
at  least  pardonable — the  condition  of  righteous  Self-defence.  Our  good 
Sir  Walter,  so  full  of  anxiety  for  his  fellow  craftsmen,  so  shocked  and  shamed 
when  one  of  those  craftsmen  protests  against  homicidal  mania  and  Jingo 
patriotism  in  another,  can  contemplate  with  serenity  the  bloody  holocaust 
of  suffering  martyred  thousands ;  snugly  seated  in  his  office  chair,  reeling 
out  Literature  at  so  much  per  thousand  words,  can  assure  his  readers  that 
the  processes  of  Plunder  and  Slaughter  are  glorious  and  ultimately  puri- 
fying ;  can  glibly  quote  from  a  poem  of  which  Tennyson  lived  long  enough 
to  be  ashamed,  but  which  is  still  among  the  few  blots  on  a  noble  reputation  ; 
can  talk  of  the  "  potency  of  War,"  "  the  ennobling  of  a  People  by  War  "  ; 
nay,  can  utter  the  usual  banalities  about  "  noble  aims  "  in  connexion  with 
a  crusade  baser  even,  if  that  is  possible,  than  the  mad  Crimean  crusade 
which  once  deluged  Europe  with  innocent  blood  ! 

The  question  of  talent  did  not  enter  into  the  matter 
at  all.  Mr.  Buchanan's  censure  was  directed  against 
Kipling's  militarism.     He  said  : 

The  question  of  Mr.  Kipling's  genius,  of  my  base  motives,  my  mis- 
appreciation,  really  does  not  count  in  the  discussion.  What  counts  is  the 
Carnage  to  which  every  Weathercock  of  a  scribbler  is  pointing,  and  the 
brutality  which  is  expressing  itself  daily  and  hourly,  not  only  in  mere  words 
but  in  deeds  which  have  made  the  name  of  England  execrated  all  over  the 

171 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

civilized  globe.  Sir  Walter  Besant  avers  that  I  have  no  right  to  speak  of 
these  things,  because  they  concern  the  prestige  and  the  pocket  of  one  who, 
with  a  Publisher  on  each  side  of  him  (like  the  Bishop  on  each  side  of  Richard 
in  the  play),  lately  cried  aloud  for  and  obtained  the  sympathy  of  two 
Continents.  I  say  that  I  have  every  right  to  speak  of  these  things,  because 
they  concern  the  honour  and  the  prosperity,  nay,  the  very  existence  of 
these  two  Continents,  and  the  happiness  of  every  humane  and  peace-loving 
citizen  who  dwells  therein. 


I 


172 


I 


RUDYARD  KIPLING 
[From  a  Drawing  by  B.  Irvine  Bately) 

The  Viscomte  Robert  d'Humieres  in  his  study  of  the  English  and  their  ways, 
"Through  Isle  and  Empire,"  gives  a  thumb-nail  picture  of  Kipling  which  gives 
one  a  clear  idea  of  his  personal  appearance.  It  is  the  best  description  of  the 
famous  novelist  that  has  been  written  ;  "  He  does  not  look  more  than  thirty. 
Nicholson's  print  makes  him  seem  older  than  he  is.  Collier's  portrait  alone 
gives  the  frank,  open,  and  youthful  expression  of  the  original.  His  eyes  in 
particular  hold  the  attention  behind  the  immovable  glasses,  full  of  light,  sym- 
pathy, and  gaiety,  thirsting  to  reflect  life  in  all  its  forms.  The  chestnut  hair  is 
cut  straight  over  the  forehead.  The  thick-set,  lather  plump  figure  possesses  a 
singular  agility  with  none  of  the  somewhat  wooden  gestures  of  the  average 
Englishman." 


CHAPTER  XIII 
"THE  LIGHT  THAT  FAILED" 

The  Light  that  Failed  "  :  A  happy  or  sad  ending  ?  :  A  notice 
of  the  play  from  the  Argonaut. 


O,  may  I  join  the  choir  invisible 

Of  those  immortal  dead  who  live  again 

In  minds  made  better  by  their  presence  :  live 

In  -pulses  stirred  to  generosity, 

In  deeds  of  daring  rectitude,  in  scorn 

For  miserable  aims  that  end  with  self. 

In  thoughts  sublime  that  pierce  the  night  like  stars, 

And  with  their  mild  persistence  urge  merCs  search 

To  vaster  issues. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

"  THE  LIGHT  THAT  FAILED  " 

"  Weep  for  the  dead,  for  his  light  has  failed,  weep  but  a 
little  for  the  dead,  for  he  is  at  rest."  The  grand  old 
words  of  Ecclesiasticus  are  ever  in  my  mind  when  I 
think  of  Kipling's  Dick  Heldar.  Who  would  not  weep 
over  the  extinction  of  a  career  set  in  a  promise  so  golden, 
in  an  accomplishment  so  rare  and  splendid  ?  Sad 
enough  thought  that  Kipling  put  him  at  rest  ;  still — he 
rests. 

"  The  Light  that  Failed  "  approaches  more  nearly  to 
the  stereotyped  novel  than  any  other  of  the  author's 
works,  and  the  following  is  a  brief  outline  of  the 
story. 

Dick  Heldar  and  Maisie,  both  Anglo-Indian  children, 
are  left  in  the  care  of  a  Mrs.  Jennett,  a  woman  with 
pronounced  Puritanical  ideas,  whose  over-scrupulous 
rules  drive  her  charges  into  all  sorts  of  trifling  trans- 
gressions. Both  take  up  art,  and  Dick  in  the  course  of 
time  goes  to  the  Soudan  as  a  war  correspondent,  where 
an  Arab's  spear  cuts  open  his  forehead.  On  his  return 
to  England  he  becomes  famous,  but  eye  trouble  develops 
owing  to  the  spear  wound. 

Maisie,  meanwhile,  has  taken  her  profession  very 
seriously,  and  persistently  checks  Dick's  offers  of  help 
and  turns  down  his  proposal  of  marriage.  "  Maisie  is 
not  heartless,  but  just  self-absorbed,  ambitious,  indivi- 
dualistic and  firmly  convinced  that  life  holds  rich  rewards 
awaiting  the  development  of  her  powers  as  an  artist,  the 
powers   which   the   love-stricken    Dick,    secure   in   the 

175 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

instinct  of  genius,  knows  only  too  well  bears  the  stamp 
of  mediocrity." 

Maisie  conceives  an  idea  for  a  great  picture  which  is 
to  be  called  "  Melancholia,"  but  being  unable  to  develop 
the  impression,  Heldar  paints  the  picture  to  show  what 
can  be  done  with  the  idea.  Before  the  picture  is 
finished  the  light  begins  to  fail,  and  the  artist  races 
against  blindness  to  finish  the  masterpiece.  His  model — 
Bessie,  a  barbaric  child  of  the  streets — destroys  the 
painting  with  turpentine  after  Dick's  sight  has  failed. 

The  English  and  American  editions  of  the  novel  run 
parallel  up  to  this  point.  In  the  American  version 
Torpenhow,  Dick's  friend,  who  knows  that  Dick  is  in 
love  with  Maisie,  seeks  her  out  in  a  French  art  colony, 
brings  her  back  to  England,  and  we  are  left  to  suppose 
that  the  fair  adherent  of  art  will  marry  the  afflicted 
friend  of  her  childhood. 

"  This  ending  is  not  fathered  by  the  author  at  all,  but 
is  sired  by  the  easy  sentimentality  of  the  novel-reading, 
theatre-going  public  whose  sensibilities  are  too  delicate 
to  look  upon  the  self-willed  and  obsessed  Maisie  who — 
in  the  English  edition — comes  back  with  Torpenhow  and 
shrinks  from  the  responsibility  of  becoming  the  wife  of 
a  blind  man."  In  the  version  in  which  the  ending  is 
driven  to  a  logical  conclusion,  Maisie  drops  out  of  the 
story,  and  Heldar  bluffing  his  way  out  to  Egypt  is  shot 
in  a  skirmish. 

A  dramatic  version  of  this  novel  was  produced  in 
London  at  the  Royalty  Theatre,  and  revived  at  the 
Lyric  Theatre  in  1903.  Forbes-Robertson  played  the 
part  of  Dick  Heldar,  and  Maisie  was  created  by  Miss 
Gertrude  Elliot. 

I  should  like  to  quote  here  a  notice  of  this  play  which 
appeared  in  the  Argonaut  when  Forbes-Robertson  paid 
a  visit  with  his  company  to  the  Cort  Theatre,  San 
Francisco,  in  January  191 5.  It  gives  pretty  clearly  the 
outline  of  the  play  and  the  attitude  of  the  average  critic 
176 


"THE   LIGHT   THAT   FAILED" 

towards  the  story  as  it  stands  with  the  unconvincing  and 
happy  ending : 

Stumbling  in  late  to  a  performance  last  Friday  evening  of  "  The  Light 
that  Failed,"  we  found  ourselves  assisting  at  a  very  crucial  interview  between 
Dick  Heldar  and  Maisie,  in  which  that  fair  adherent  of  art  turned  down 
Dick's  proposal  of  marriage.  We  are  getting  more  used,  since  Kipling 
first  wrote  his  book,  to  the  cool-hearted  young  thing  who  refuses  to  melt 
into  a  man's  arms  upon  no  matter  how  warmly  couched  an  invitation  offered 
her  to  be  his,  but  somehow  Laura  Cowie  seemed  to  fit  with  peculiar  felicity 
into  the  character  of  Maisie — of  Kipling's  Maisie,  I  mean — not  the  Maisie 
of  later  acts,  who  is  not  fathered  by  Kipling  at  all,  but  is  a  bastard  being, 
sired  by  the  easy  sentimentality  of  the  theatre-going  public,  whose  sensi- 
bilities are  too  tender  to  allow  a  tragic  theme  to  intrude  in  modern  drama 
and  work  out  to  its  logical  conclusion.  It  is  curious  how  they  differentiate 
in  this  respect  between  ancient  or  mediaeval  drama  and  that  of  our  time. 
In  the  former  death  and  sorrow  are  allowable.  In  the  latter  all  tears  must 
be  wiped  away  and  all  sorrows  assuaged.  So  Dick's  tragedy  never  develops 
to  its  final  conclusion  any  more  than  Maisie's  character  fulfils  itself. 

But  this  interview  was  Kipling's  own,  and  I  felt  as  I  listened  to  the  pleading 
of  the  thin,  worn  man,  over  whose  head  seemed  hovering  the  shadow  of 
impending  calamity,  "  This  is  the  most  live  and  palpitating  thing  I  have 
seen  these  people  do  yet."  For  it  seemed  so  much  fuller  of  intimate  human 
feeling  than  the  intellectual  self-communions  of  Hamlet,  the  lofty  spiri- 
tuality of  "  The  Passer-by,"  or  the  historically  enshrined  satire  of  Caesar. 
It  was  one  of  those  moments  in  a  play  that  stamps  itself  on  the  memory. 
Maisie  was  so  dazzlingly  young,  so  youthfully  self-confident,  and  as  fresh 
and  flawless  as  an  opening  bud.  It  seemed  natural  that  this  worn  and 
anxious  man  should  plead  humbly  for  the  boon  of  her  young  love,  and  it 
was  only  when  he  spoke  of  their  having  been  children  together  that  the  first 
false  note  was  struck.  The  disparity  was  too  obvious,  in  regarding  that 
young  bud  of  humanity.  She  was  like  a  cream-coloured  tropical  flower, 
with  her  smooth,  warm  pallor  and  her  full  crimson  lips.  For  the  young 
lady  affects  the  vampire,  red-lipped  pallor  that  came  in  vogue  a  season  or 
so  ago,  and  which  is  strikingly  effective  in  contrast  against  her  rich  dusky 
hair.  She  struck  the  right  note  for  Maisie,  who  wasn't  heartless,  but  just 
self-absorbed,  ambitious,  individualistic,  and  firmly  convinced  that  life 
held  rich  rewards  awaiting  the  development  of  her  art — the  art  which  poor 
Dick,  secure  in  the  instinct  of  genius,  knew  only  too  well  bore  the  stamp  of 
mediocrity, 

Forbes-Robertson  in  his  modern  dress,  and  with  a  crest  of  wavy  locks 
over  his  brow  lending  a  modicum  of  youth  to  his  refined  features,  and  with 
his  quick,  light  movements,  was  in  appearance  easily  acceptable  as  Dick 

M  177 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

Heldar,  if  it  were  not  for  the  necessity  of  that  unfortunate  allusion  which 
established  himself  and  Maisie  as  contemporaries.  No  matter  how  willingly 
we  work  that  Pegasus,  our  imagination,  common  sense  rejected  the  idea. 

But  as  Dick  Heldar,  the  artist  struggling  against  almost  overwhelming 
odds  to  finish  his  masterpiece,  and  as  the  devoted  friend  of  Torpenhow, 
guarding  him  from  Bessie,  the  pretty  guttersnipe  who  schemes  to  have  the 
tall  war  correspondent  held  back  from  the  front  so  that  he  may  take  her 
like  a  stray  London  cat  into  the  shelter  of  his  warm  hearthstone  and  his 
warmer  heart,  the  London  actor  is  great  enough  to  be  simple,  natural,  and 
pathetic.  Even  with  the  perverted  and  illogical  twist  that  has  been  given 
it  to  bring  about  a  happy  ending  the  play  is  very  sad — partly,  I  think, 
because,  aside  from  the  doom  that  really  falls  on  Dick,  we  feel,  as  we  should 
in  the  first  two  acts,  the  shadow  of  impending  tragedy.  It  is  artistically 
fit  that  we  should  in  this  kind  of  play,  and  when  the  twist  comes  with  its 
falsely  happy  ending  we  remember  the  calamity  of  the  ruined  picture, 
with  its  presage  of  more  to  follow,  and  those  who  wish  the  play  to  be, 
dramatically,  an  approximately  faithful  reproduction  of  the  book  instinc- 
tively reject  the  false  ending.  In  fact,  they  are  liable  to  regard  it  as  a  sort 
of  indictment  of  their  intelligence.  For  how  could  self-absorbed  Maisie, 
so  unwarmed  by  the  tender  glow  of  her  lover's  manly  passion,  how  could 
she  ever  be  to  him  the  self-sacrificing  companion  whose  devotion  would, 
in  some  degree,  make  up  to  him  for  his  lack  ?  Kipling  himself,  if  I  remember 
aright,  shadowed  forth  the  intimation  that  Dick's  life  might  have  emerged 
from  its  tragic  cloud  if  he  had  loved  "  the  red-haired  girl !  "  instead  of 
Maisie. 

Of  course,  all  notable  books  suffer  from  being  dramatized.  That  is, 
there  are  abruptnesses,  unnatural  condensations,  loose  ends,  and  so  forth. 
The  Bessie  episode  of  the  ruined  picture,  which  in  the  book  follows  a 
procession  of  minor  events,  is  a  climax  to  the  act  in  which  Bessie  first  makes 
her  appearance.  Those  sordid  qualities  in  human  nature  which  in  the 
book  impelled  Bessie  and  Beeton  to  neglect  their  charge  do  not  in  the 
necessarily  limited  area  of  a  play  appear,  and  that  most  striking  denouement 
which  follows  upon  Dick's  realization  that  life  holds  no  further  promise 
for  him  is,  naturally,  utterly  unknown,  or  at  least,  so  we  assume,  to  all  those 
auditors  who  have  never  read  the  book. 

The  European  War,  with  its  elimination  of  the  war  correspondent,  has 
had  the  effect  of  making  the  book,  in  one  respect,  seem  old-fashioned,  for 
the  war  has  brought  a  new  epoch  of  thoughts  and  opinions  in  which  the 
whole  world  shares.  The  war  correspondents,  so  called,  of  1914  have  been 
almost  universally  made  sick  at  heart,  for,  being  only  allowed  to  trail  in 
the  wake  of  destructive  armies,  and  over  battlefields  vacated  of  all  except 
the  dead,  they  know  the  whole  horrible,  hideous  tragedy  of  war,  and  they 

178 


"THE   LIGHT  THAT   FAILED" 

have  made  us  Americans  know  it,  too.  Thus  the  explosion  of  joy  by  the 
war  correspondents  of  the  play  when  they  learned  that  war  had  broken 
out  in  the  Balkans  fell  on  very  coldly  responsive  ears.  During  the  Balkan 
War  the  American  public  was  only  half  interested.  Now  "  Balkans  "  has 
become  a  household  word.  The  delight  of  those  men  at  the  call  to  arms 
seemed  almost  heartless,  and  the  fine,  manly,  soldierly  spirit  which  it  was 
supposed  to  express  could  not  naturally  be  responded  to  by  us,  with  our 
new  and  painful  wisdom. 

The  play  is  supposed  to  be  permeated  with  the  atmosphere  of  youth — 
the  youth  of  eager  soldiers ;  of  Dick,  ardent  and  ambitious  in  his  love  ;  of 
Bessie,  hungering  for  the  wine  of  life  ;  and  of  Maisie  and  her  friend,  ven- 
turing into  the  art  world,  so  lavish  in  promises  and  denials.  But  in  the 
present  representation  there  is  too  great  a  suggestion  of  maturity  in  all 
except  Maisie  and  Bessie,  for  Mary  Sumner  is  suitably  equipped  with  youth, 
temperament,  and  technic.  It  is,  however,  a  very  interesting  performance — 
more  so,  I  think,  to  some  of  the  present  generation  than  is  that  of  any  of 
the  four  plays  represented.  Perhaps  because  of  the  greater  sense  of  intimacy 
with  emotions  and  ambitions  of  modern  life.  "  Hamlet,"  however,  remains 
the  great  attraction,  for  the  public  recognizes  that  few  players  are  sufficiently 
endowed  to  resurrect  the  melancholy  prince  ;  and  as  for  "  Caesar  and  Cleo- 
patra," this  has  been  our  first,  last,  and  only  chance  to  hear  Shaw's  amusing 
historical  satire. 

The  above  notice  is  from  the  pen  of  Josephine  Hart 
Phelps,  and  made  its  appearance  in  the  Argonaut  on 
January  9,  191 5. 


179 


CHAPTER  XIV 
ANIMAL  STORIES 

Kipling's  animal  stories  :  Cats  :  J.  Lockwood  Kipling  on  cats  : 
*'  How  the  Leopard  got  his  Spots  "  :  Alexandre  Dumas  pere 
and  his  pet  :  Jerome  K.  Jerome  :  The  Spectator  on  "  Pussy  cat  " 
"  The  Crab  that  played  with  the  Sea  "  :  Wolf-reared  children 
Wolf-boy  at  Mission  House  of  Agra  :  "  Old  Man  Kangaroo  " 
Curious  facts  about  the  kangaroo  :  Kipling's  imitators  :  The 
Review  of  the  Week  and  Dr.  Doyle's  animal  stories  :  "  An  Affront 
to  Ganesha  "  :  The  origin  of  Ganesha  :  Kipling's  symbol  of  good 

luck. 


/  think  I  could  turn  and  live  with  animals,  they  are  so  -placid  and 

self-contained, 
I  stand  and  look  at  them  long  and  long. 
They  do  not  sweat  and  whine  about  their  condition, 
They  do  not  lie  awake  in  the  dark  and  weep  for  their  sins. 
They  do  not  make  me  sick  discussing  their  duty  to  God, 
Not  one  is  dissatisfied,  not  one  is  demented  with  the  mania  of 

owning  things. 
Not  one  kneels  to  another,  nor  to  his  kind  that  lived  thousands 

of  years  ago. 
Not  one  is  respectable  or  unhappy  over  the  whole  earth. 

Walt  Whitman. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ANIMAL  STORIES 

Any  attempt  at  detailed  criticism  of  the  wonderful 
sketches  of  animal  life  in  the  "  Jungle  Books,"  and  a 
host  of  short  stories  concerned  with  nature  myths  from 
many  sources  and  various  races,  would  be  beyond  the 
scope  of  this  volume.  But  this  survey  would  certainly 
be  incomplete  without  a  few  notes  on  a  variety  of 
matters  which  appear  to  bear  upon  Kipling's  animal 
stories.  For  the  convenience  of  students  and  searchers, 
the  title  of  a  few  books  from  which  I  have  gleaned  my 
notes  are  given  in  the  footnotes.  The  countless  little 
phrases  Kipling  uses  in  these  fables  show  his  point  of 
view — ^his  attitude  to  the  world.  They  do  not  come  to 
one  in  solid  chunks  of  inconsequential  description,  but 
in  innocent-looking  little  passages  hidden  in  the  practical 
wisdom  of  the  animal.  "  The  Cat  that  walked  by 
Himself  "  in  "  Just  So  Stories  "  is  a  fine  study. 

Cats  are  always  interesting,  because  nobody  has  yet 
understood  how  much  affection  they  are  capable  of 
feeling  for  their  human  possessors,  but  in  this  story  the 
author  has  certainly  put  forth  a  very  faithful  study.  It 
is  an  old  subject,  but  remarkably  well  treated  in  spite  of 
Kipling's  fun  and  twaddle,  entertaining  or  not,  according 
to  the  disposition  of  the  reader. 

The  story  opens  with  Man  and  Woman  living  together 
in  a  cave.  To  them  came  in  turn  Wild  Dog,  Wild  Horse, 
and  Wild  Cow,  who  in  exchange  for  food  make  compacts 
with  the  cave-dwellers  to  become  respectively  First 
Friend,  First  Servant,  and  Giver  of  Good  Food.     The 

183 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

cat,  however,  is  not  to  be  attracted  so  easily  ;  he  is 
curious  about  the  humans  in  the  cave,  but  declares  he 
will  always  "  walk  by  himself."  The  warm  milk  and  a 
right  to  sit  by  the  fire  is  a  constant  attraction,  but  his 
independence  will  not  let  him  barter  his  freedom  for 
comfort.  The  cat  despises  the  dog  who  will  lick  the 
foot  that  kicks  him :  for  straightforward,  level-headed 
reasoning  go  to  puss.  The  dog  thinks  a  powerful  lot  of 
mere  man — there  never  was  such  a  clever  thing  as  a 
man,  in  a  dog's  opinion  ;  and  he  takes  good  care  to  bark 
it  to  everybody  he  meets.  Naturally  enough  the  Cave 
Man  thought  that  the  dog  was  a  most  intellectual 
animal,  and  being  deluded  by  his  winning  manners  and 
the  promise  to  "  hunt  through  the  day  and  guard  this 
cave  by  the  night,"  he  allowed  Wild  Dog  the  right  to 
make  the  cave  his  home.  The  Cat  was  always  creeping 
around  the  cave  eavesdropping,  which  is  a  way  they 
have,  and  when  he  heard  the  dog  surrender  his  body 
and  soul  for  a  few  roasted  mutton  bones.  Wild  Cat 
looked  towards  the  dog  with  an  expression  of  disgust  on 
his  face  that  would  have  made  a  travelling  actor  feel 
ashamed  of  himself.  The  cat,  you  see,  had  his  own 
opinion  about  Man  and  Woman  as  he  has  ever  since  had 
about  all  humans.  He  does  not  say  much,  but  you  can 
learn  enough  from  his  manner  to  make  you  glad  he  can't 
talk  to  you.  The  consequence  is  that  humans  put  down 
pussy  as  an  animal  without  intelligence.  Even  Kipling 
is  very  scathing  about  the  cat,  and  suggests  that  he  is 
really  incapable  of  any  true  affection  towards  man. 
When  a  cat  rubs  against  its  master's  legs  and  walks 
sideways,  mews  and  appears  to  be  transported  with  joy, 
it  is  "  only  pretend,"  says  Kipling.  After  all  these  signs 
of  affection  pussy  will  run  out  the  front  door  and  stay 
out  till  the  morning  light,  without  another  thought  to 
the  household  ;  but  the  dog  "  snores  at  my  feet  all 
night,  and  he  is  my  Firstest  Friend."  All  painfully  true, 
of  course.  Best  Beloved,  but  pussy  has  many  good  and  ster- 
184 


ANIMAL   STORIES 

ling  traits.  We  must  not  allow  our  prejudice  to  override 
our  judgment.  For  level-headed  reasoning  give  me  cats ; 
you  can't  fool  a  cat  with  soft  words  the  same  as  you  can 
a  dog.  Pussy  is  admired  by  learned  men  the  world  over 
because  of  his  independence  and  the  secrecy  of  his  ways. 

Again,  cats  like  all  scholars  are  yearners  after  the 
silence  of  the  "  wild  wet  woods,"  and  have  no  fear  of 
the  darkness  ;  if  they  had  not  been  too  proud  to  bear 
the  yoke,  iEolus  would  have  taken  them  for  his  couriers 
in  the  night.  Richelieu,  Joachim  du  Bellay,  Tasso, 
Chateaubriand,  Maupassant,  Baudelaire  and  Dumas  pere 
all  adored  cats.  In  fact,  nearly  all  great  men  have  enter- 
tained a  very  great  respect  for  cats. 

But  to  return  to  Kipling's  story  of  the  "  Cat  that 
Walked."  The  Wild  Cat,  after  the  other  wild  animals 
had  sold  themselves  to  bondage,  walked  up  to  the  cave 
to  reconnoitre,  and  he  saw  the  cheery  glow  of  the  Cave 
Woman's  fire,  and  he  smelt  the  smell  of  warm  milk. 
When  the  woman  looked  out  of  the  cave  she  asked  the 
"  Wild  Thing  "  out  of  the  wood  what  he  was  doing  on 
her  doorstep,  and  told  him  to  go  away.  But  the  crafty 
pussy  assumed  an  aspect  of  chastened  sorrow,  and  begged 
of  the  woman  to  give  him  the  chance  to  show  what  a 
wise  creature  he  was.  The  woman  agrees  to  let  the  cat 
share  the  cave,  fire  and  milk,  if  she  three  times  praises 
him.  Pussy  easily  wins  the  first  and  second  word  of 
praise  by  soothing  the  baby,  and  the  third  by  killing  a 
mouse.  From  that  day  till  the  hour  he  died  the  Wild 
Cat  of  the  Woods  was  allowed  to  drink  warm  milk  three 
times  a  day,  sit  by  the  fire  in  a  drunken  stupor  all  day, 
and  wander  about  the  wild  wet  woods  all  night. 

If  you  watch  any  cat  closely,  you  will  see  that  from 
time  to  time  he  will  turn  deliberately  round  and  laugh 
at  you.  He  is  chuckling  in  remembrance  of  the  joke  of 
jokes  in  the  cat  world  ;  you  can  almost  read  Kipling's 
words  on  the  lips : 

Still  I  am  the  cat  that  walks  by  himself,  and  all  places  are  alike  to  me. 

185 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Generations  of  devoted  cat-lovers  in  Europe  have  not 
been  able  quite  to  overcome  the  tendency  of  the  pussy 
to  run  v^ild.  J.  Lockwood  Kipling  says  that  many  a 
gamekeeper  will  tell  you  of  cats  v^hich,  during  the  day, 
are  models  of  saintly  propriety,  and  at  night  are  "  just 
prow^ling  tigers."  It  v^ill  be  noticed  that  cats,  tigers, 
leopards,  zebras,  and  giraffes  are  protectively  coloured. 
Their  whole  organization  is  a  perfected  mechanism  for 
catching  and  killing  living  prey  by  a  sudden  pounce 
from  a  point  of  vantage.  With  a  few  exceptions  the 
background  of  the  coat  is  a  shade  of  yellow  or  grey, 
lightened  by  black  markings  forming  spots,  patches  or 
stripes  which  render  them  less  conspicuous  when  creeping 
along  the  branch  of  a  tree,  or  crouching  to  spring  upon 
their  prey. 

Kipling  deals  with  the  old  subject  of  the  protective 
colouring  of  animals  in  "  How  the  Leopard  got  his 
Spots  "  ("  Just  So  Stories  ").  A  leopard  of  a  greyish 
yellowish  colour,  and  an  Ethiopian,  not  then  black, 
discover  that  they  are  daily  experiencing  more  difficulty 
in  catching  their  dinners  and  teas.  They  find  that  the 
"  game  has  gone  into  other  spots  "  ;  in  other  words,  the 
animals  they  have  been  in  the  habit  of  hunting  have 
grown  so  much  like  their  surroundings  that  it  is  impossible 
to  track  them  down.  Thus  a  giraffe  standing  in  a  clump 
of  acacias  is  practically  invisible  at  a  little  distance 
owing  to  his  blotchy  coat,  which  resembles  shadows  and 
sunlight  streaming  through  the  leaves.  Or,  take  the 
deer  always  either  spotted  with  white,  the  effect  of 
which  also  resembles  that  of  the  sunlight  falling  in 
patches,  or  uniformly  dark  to  accord  with  the  dense 
forests  or  jungle  which  they  inhabit. 

Of  course  the  yellowish  coloured  leopard  and  the 
Ethiopian  can  easily  be  evaded  by  the  other  animals 
because  they  remain  different  from  their  surroundings, 
so  they  accordingly  proceed  to  make  a  little  adjustment 
in  their  appearances.  The  Ethiopian  blackens  his  skin, 
i86 


ANIMAL   STORIES 

and,  while  the  colour  is  still  wet,  he  puts  his  fingers  on 
it,  and  then  transfers  the  impressions  to  the  leopard. 
"  They  then  went  ahunting  and  lived  happily  ever 
afterward,"  as  Kipling  says. 

The  colouring  of  an  animal  may  be  also  distinctive. 
The  hindquarters  of  monkeys  and  certain  herbivora 
are  most  conspicuously  coloured,  and  this  is  the 
reason :  both  these  classes  of  animals  are  apt  to  dash  off 
suddenly  through  the  dense  foliage,  and  their  striking 
colouring  enables  any  stragglers  to  keep  them  in 
view. 

Seemingly  Kipling  took  the  idea  of  the  cat  story  from 
his  father's  book  on  Indian  animals.*  Lockwood  Kipling 
sums  up  the  attitude  of  the  cat  in  a  few  lines  somewhat 
piquantly.  "  No  creature  is  more  independent  than 
the  cat.  Its  more  complete  domestication  in  the  West 
is  in  reality  merely  due  to  its  love  of  warmth.  For  the 
sake  of  comfort  it  will  tolerate  humanity  and  blink 
amiably  at  the  fireside,  but  a  serene  selfishness  is  the 
basis  of  the  cat  character." 

But  with  all  his  independent,  languid,  dilettante  ways 
the  cat  really  does  feel  affection  for  humans.  Alexandre 
Dumas  pere  told  a  very  interesting  story  of  a  very 
worthy  cat  he  possessed. 

While  living  in  the  Rue  de  L'Ouest  in  Paris  he  had  a  cat  called  Mysouff . 
Every  morning  when  Dumas  went  to  the  office  the  cat  would  follow  him 
as  far  as  the  Rue  Sainte-Honore ;  farther  than  that  he  would  not  go. 
Every  evening  Dumas  returned  at  five  o'clock,  and  every  evening  would  find 
Mysouff  sitting  waiting  for  him  in  the  Rue  de  Vaugirard.  The  moment 
the  cat  saw  his  master  coming  he  would  rub  against  the  side  of  the  wall 
with  joy  and  walk  sideways,  with  his  back  arched,  along  the  road.  When 
once  their  own  street  was  reached,  moreover,  he  would  jump  up  against 
Dumas'  legs  exactly  like  a  dog  would  have  done,  and  continue  this  until 
within  a  few  steps  of  the  house,  when  he  made  a  wild  dash  to  the  door. 
The  most  curious  part  of  the  story,  however,  is  what  follows.  If  by  any 
chance  Dumas  was  dining  in  town  and  did  not  return  home  at  five  as  usual, 

•  "  Beast  and  Man  in  India  "  (Macmillan  and  Co.,  1891),  chap,  xii, 
"  Of  Cats." 

187 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

it  was  quite  useless  to  open  the  front  door  or  call  "  Mysouff,  Mysouff  !  " — 
the  cat  would  sleep  on  calmly  and  not  stir. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  best  examples  of  the  cat's  placid 
bearing  and  plain  common  sense  has  been  noted  by 
Jerome  K.  Jerome :  * 

Now,  have  you  ever  noticed  a  dog  at  the  end  of  a  chain,  trying  to  kill  a 
cat  as  is  sitting  washing  her  face  three-quarters  of  an  inch  out  of  his  reach  ? 
Of  course  you  have.  Well,  who's  got  the  sense  out  of  those  two  ?  The 
cat  knows  that  it  ain't  in  the  nature  of  steel  chains  to  stretch.  The  dog, 
who  ought,  you'd  think,  to  know  a  durned  sight  more  about  'em  than  she 
does,  is  sure  they  will  if  you  only  bark  loud  enough. 

Of  course  the  cat  provides  immediate  inspiration  for 
nursery  rhymes.  In  an  article  on  this  subject  in  the 
Spectator  (November  20,  1909),  a  writer  offers  this  note 
on  "  Pussy  cat,  Pussy  cat,  where  have  you  been  ?  " 
which  seems  to  bear  out  Kipling's  outlook  on  the  feline 
world : 

The  cat,  haughty  of  mien  and  dainty  of  person,  stalks  in  at  the  door  with 
a  serene  indifference,  a  superb  carriage  of  head  and  tail,  which  suggests 
royalty  at  once.  Where  has  the  cat  been  ?  To  the  very  hub  of  things, 
surely ;  to  walk  apart  with  princes ;  to  bring  back  the  air  of  the  palace 
to  the  humdrum  farm.  Yet  the  cat,  for  all  her  queenliness,  must  be  sent 
about  her  business  ;  she  is  reminded  that  her  sole  real  achievement  at  the 
palace  was  the  terrifying  of  a  mouse.  She  must  be  put  in  her  place  ;  indeed, 
she  must  be  put  into  the  well.  Methods  with  the  cat  are  direct ;  there 
are  more  elaborate  treatments  of  less  familiar  creatures.  The  frog,  like 
the  cat,  has  an  air  ;  the  frog  is  a  gay  fellow  who  comes  to  a  bad  end.  There 
is  a  rakish  humanity  about  the  frog  ;  he  has  hands  and  feet,  and  he  can  be 
set  walking  upright,  and  he  has  a  yellow  waistcoat  and  tight  green  trousers 
and  a  rolling  eye  ;  he  is  sent  on  his  voyage  wooing,  and  the  duck  or  the 
crow  finishes  him. 

"  The  Crab  that  Played  with  the  Sea  "  is  founded  on 
the  Filipius  folk-story  which  tells  of  the  King  Crab  that 
lives  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  in  a  big  hole.     The  crab 

*  The  Idler  magazine,  October  1892,  "  Novel  Notes."     Illustrations 
by  Louis  Wain.    In  this  article  Mr.  Jerome  has  brought  together  many 
anecdotes  of  cats. 
188 


ANIMAL   STORIES 

is  larger  than  a  hundred  buffaloes,  and  once  every  day 
and  night  it  comes  up  to  the  surface,  looking  like  a 
large  island.  When  it  reaches  a  smooth  beach  it  crawls 
up  to  land,  and  thus  causes  the  waters  to  pour  down 
into  the  hole,  and  the  tide  to  fall  low  on  all  the  islands. 
When  it  gets  tired  of  the  shore  and  retires  down  into 
its  hole,  the  waters  rush  out,  and  the  tide  rises. 

The  story  of  Pau  Amma  * — the  king-crab — ranges 
from  Singapore  to  Torres  Straits.  The  hole  he  lives  in 
is  called  Pusat  Tasek. 

From  the  story  of  Romulus  and  Remus  to  Kipling's 
Mowgli  legends  of  wolf-reared  children  have  been 
common  in  all  nations.  But  the  original  of  Kipling's 
character  may  have  been  the  wolf-boy  discovered  by  an 
American  lady,  who  saw  him  at  the  age  of  twenty,  at 
the  English  Church  Mission,  Agra,  in  1875.  This  lady 
described  the  strange  wolf-boy  in  a  book  of  travels, 
which  was  privately  printed  some  years  ago.  At  the 
age  of  eight  he  had  been  rescued  from  a  wolf's  den.  He 
had  been  seen  crawling  about  on  all  fours  in  the  company 
of  a  she-wolf.  In  the  early  days  of  his  captivity  he 
howled  like  a  wolf,  would  eat  only  raw  meat,  and  con- 
tinued to  move  about  on  his  hands  and  feet.  It  took 
years  of  infinite  patience  on  the  part  of  his  manager  to 
teach  him  the  few  words  he  was  able  to  articulate  when 
Mrs.  Frances  saw  him.  At  that  time  he  still  made  his 
wants  known  mainly  by  gestures  and  ejaculations,  and 
his  lower  jaw  was  constantly  moving.  He  had  a  wild 
look  still,  but  was  not  "  disagreeably  ugly,"  had  become 
"  quite  tame,"  and  appeared  to  the  American  lady 
"  kindly  disposed." 

In  the  ninth  volume  of  the  Journal  of  the  Anthrofo- 
logical  Institutes  there  are  also  some  notes  on  the  subject 
of  a  man  with  wolf-like  characteristics. 

Mr.  V.  Ball,  of  the  Indian  Geological  Survey,  says  that 

*  "  Malay  Magic,"  by  W.  W.  Skeat,  should  be  consulted  for  an  account 
of  Pau  Amma. 

189 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

this  man  smelt  food  when  it  was  offered  to  him  before 
he  would  decide  whether  to  eat  it  or  not,  and  hid  any 
portion  of  it  left  over  under  the  straw  on  which  he 
slept.  He  could  not  speak,  but  made  signs,  grunted, 
and  generally  behaved  like  a  wolf. 

The  sixth  of  the  "  Just  So  Stories  "  is  a  tale  about 
Old  Man  Kangaroo.  He  is  called  Boomer,  has  legs  of 
about  equal  size,  and  is  discontented  and  quite  inordi- 
nately vain.  His  pride  urges  him  to  go  to  the  gods  and 
petition  them  to  make  him  different  from  all  other 
animals.  The  Big  God  Nqong  complies  and  sets  Yellow 
Dog  Ding  to  chase  Boomer  into  the  heart  of  Australia, 
by  which  time  the  kangaroo's  hind  legs  had  grown  so 
large  that  he  was  different  from  all  other  animals. 

A  Boomer  is  the  same  as  an  Old  Man  Kangaroo — ^he  is 
the  biggest  kind  of  that  class  of  animal.  The  Dingo  is 
the  wild  dog  of  Australia.  They  are  generally,  if  not 
always,  of  a  yellow  colour.  Some  curious  facts  about 
Old  Man  Kangaroo  were  contributed  to  the  Times, 
September  15,  191 3.  The  animal,  we  are  told,  uses  its 
tail  as  a  sort  of  rudder  when  travelling  fast.  It  also 
rests  on  it,  as  on  the  third  leg  of  a  tripod,  when  it  sits 
up  and  reaches  to  its  full  height.  It  is  also  stated  that 
the  kangaroo  does  not  use  its  tail  to  aid  its  leaping 
powers  ;  but  it  often  retards  them  in  wet  weather,  when 
this  ponderous  appendage  becomes  soaked  and  acts  as  a 
drag. 

While  the  kangaroo's  real  weapon  is  its  hind  foot,  with 
the  enormously  developed  fourth  toe  and  its  great  hoof- 
life  nail,  it  is  said  to  use  its  fore-arms  for  clutching  an 
enemy  and  holding  it  where  it  can  give  it  one  of  the 
kicking  blows  with  its  hind  foot  which  almost  cut  a  dog 
in  half. 

More  unpleasant  still  is  the  trick  with  which  it  is 
credited  of  taking  refuge,  when  pursued,  in  a  pool  or 
water-hole,  when  any  enemy  which  approaches,  man  or 
dog,  is  seized  and  thrust  under  water  to  be  drowned. 
190 


ANIMAL   STORIES 

It  may  be  as  much  as  eight  months  before  the  young 
kangaroo — or  "  Joey  "  as  it  is  called — though  moving  in 
and  out  of  it  long  before  that,  leaves  the  pouch  altogether 
to  shift  for  itself. 

They  are  becoming  less  numerous  now.  They  seem 
to  have  insatiable  appetites,  and  w^ith  their  sharp  front 
teeth  they  nibble  vegetation  down  to  the  very  roots. 
The  kangaroos  and  the  white  man,  with  his  crops,  his 
flocks,  and  his  herds,  cannot  co-exist,  so  the  colonist  kills 
the  animals  in  every  way  that  he  can. 

They  are  shot  and  ridden  down  with  hounds,  and  still 
occasionally  in  some  parts  driven,  in  grand  battues, 
between  narrowing  lines  of  fences  into  stockades,  where 
they  are  slaughtered,  the  "  old  men  "  being  generally 
shot  first,  and  then  the  less  formidable  of  the  mob 
beaten  to  death  with  clubs.  Those  who  have  seen  it 
say  that  it  is  not  a  pleasant  sight. 

With  the  exception  of  the  "  old  men,"  kangaroos  are 
generally  defenceless  as  well  as  timid  creatures  ;  and  they 
are  more  easily  killed,  perhaps,  than  any  other  animal  of 
size  except  man  and  some  of  the  apes. 

Of  their  gentleness  no  one  who  has  watched  them  in 
the  Zoo  needs  to  be  convinced  ;  and  not  long  ago  in 
Regent's  Park  a  peahen  found  them  such  friendly  and 
comfortable  companions  that  she  deserted  her  own 
relations  and  took  up  permanent  quarters  in  the  kangaroo 
paddock. 

Kipling's  imitators  in  the  animal  story  field  are  legion, 
and  many  of  them  have  received  the  impetus  from  his 
books  which  has  established  their  names  prominently  in 
the  world  of  letters.  Take  for  example  "  The  Call  of 
the  Wild,"  by  Jack  London,  a  book  inspired  by  the 
"  Jungle  Book  "  ;  another  work,  not  so  well  known,  in 
which  the  author  has  adopted  Kipling's  phraseology  and 
style  is  Dr.  Doyle's  Indian  book,  "  The  Taming  of  the 
Jungle."  *   A  reviewer  in  the  Review  of  the  Week  pointed 

*  "  The  Taming  of  the  Jungle,"  Constable,  1899. 

191 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

out  the  resemblance  of  two  of  Dr.  Doyle's  stories  to 
Kipling's  "  The  Mark  of  the  Beast  "  and  "  The  Tomb 
of  His  Ancestors  "  and  hinted  at  plagiarism,  but  the 
author's  refutation  of  this  charge  dispelled  all  suspicions. 
The  following  extract  from  this  reply  is  rather  interesting: 

{Extracts  from  a  letter  by  Dr.  C.  W.  Doyle) 

Your  letter  was  accompanied  by  a  copy  of  an  English  publication  (the 
Review  of  the  Week),  in  which  is  a  "  slashing  "  attack  on  my  Indian  book. 
The  charge  of  plagiarism  with  regard  to  my  tiger  story,  "  How  Nandha 
was  Avenged,"  falls  to  the  ground  from  the  fact  that  my  story  was  written 
in  April  1881  and  Mr.  Kipling's  great  and  wonderful  story,  "  The  Tomb 
of  his  Ancestors,"  first  appeared  in  McClure^s  in  December  1897.  The 
mesmeric  influence  of  the  great  carnivora  is  a  matter  of  universal  knowledge, 
and  was  known  long  before  you  and  I  were  born.  In  his  book  of  travels  in 
Africa,  Dr.  Livingstone  mentions  the  matter  in  telling  of  the  crushing  of 
his  arm  by  a  lion.  In  Mr.  Kipling's  "  The  Mark  of  the  Beast,"  and  in 
my  "  Affront  to  Gannesha,"  a  mark  is  put  by  a  priest  on  a  Faringi  for  an 
insult  to  his  god.  Indian  folklore  abounds  with  such  stories,  and  Mr. 
Kipling  must  have  heard  many  such  stories  from  his  mother's  ayah  when 
he  was  a  child,  as  I  did  from  mine.  It  is  the  priests  in  their  various  orders, 
and  the  priests  alone,  who  are  supposed  to  have  occult  powers  ;  so  I  had 
to  introduce  a  priest  into  my  story.  I  should  have  no  difficulty  in  proving 
to  any  reasonable  person  that  my  little  book  was  finished  and  typewritten 
before  the  end  of  July  1897.  I  still  have  some  of  the  original  manuscript 
in  my  possession,  with  dates  referring  to  the  time  of  the  finishing  of  the 
stories.  Mr.  Older,  managing  director  of  the  S.F.  Bulletin,  was  here 
in  the  summer  of  1897  ;  he  was  so  struck  with  the  stories  that  he  asked  to 
have  a  selection  of  them,  which  he  sent  on  the  9th  of  July  of  that  year 
to  Harfer's.  Mr.  Carrington,  at  that  time  editor  of  the  Santa  Cruz.  Press 
and  now  on  the  staff  of  the  5.^.  Examiner,  was  good  enough  to  read  the 
stories  as  I  finished  them,  and  made  some  valuable  suggestions,  which  I 
adopted  before  the  stories  were  written.  There  must  be  a  score  of  people 
in  Santa  Cruz  to  whom  I  read  the  little  book  as  I  wrote  it,  and  who  have 
been  sufficiently  interested  in  it  to  look  forward  to  its  publication  with 
impatience,  and  who  could  not  have  forgotten  the  time  when  the  book 
was  read  to  them. 

Since  writing  the  above  sentence  I  have  received  a  newspaper  from  my 
brother  in  India.  It  was  published  at  Mussoorie,  where  I  went  to  school, 
and,  by  a  strange  coincidence,  the  only  story  it  comments  upon  in  my  book 
is  "  An  Affront  to  Gannesha."  The  Clements  of  that  story  was  my  sister's 
192 


ANIMAL    STORIES 

godfather.  All  the  names  mentioned  in  that  story  are  the  real  names 
of  well-known  people.  Clement's  death  took  place  much  as  I  have  told  it. 
All  these  statements  are  corroborated  by  the  Mafasaliie  of  Mussoorie,  a 
paper  of  whose  existence  I  was  not  even  aware.  Clements  died  in  1869, 
when  Mr.  Kipling  was  four  years  old.  I  think  I  have  said  enough  to  clear 
myself  of  the  charge  of  plagiarism. 

"  An  Affront  to  Ganesha  "  is  clothed  in  ideas  culled 
from  the  Hindu  myths  and  sculptures  dealing  with 
Ganesha,  the  wise  god  who  is  invoked  at  the  beginning 
of  all  enterprises.  The  popular  version  of  the  origin  of 
Ganesha  is  given  in  "  Beast  and  Man  in  India."  Parbati, 
the  wife  of  the  great  Lord  Shiva,  after  taking  a  bath 
rubbed  some  tiny  pellets  oif  her  skin,  and  amused  herself 
by  moulding  them  into  the  form  of  a  child,  which, 
through  some  uncanny  Eastern  magic,  takes  life  unto 
itself.  The  Lord  Shiva,  returning  from  a  visit  to  a  far 
country,  is  enraged  to  find  his  wife  with  the  child,  and 
in  a  fit  of  rage  cut  off  its  head.  The  Parbati  tearfully 
explained  the  facts  of  the  case  to  her  Lord  Shiva,  who 
was  filled  with  remorse  for  acting  in  such  a  hasty  manner. 
Catching  sight  of  an  elephant  standing  near,  he  cut  off 
its  head  and  grafted  it  on  the  headless  baby.  ''  Now, 
that's  all  right  !  "  he  remarked.  "  I  ordain  that  in 
every  enterprise  Ganesha's  name  shall  be  the  first  called 
upon."  That  is  why  the  elephants'  head  grew  on  the 
godling's  body.  His  effigy  is  placed  over  most  Hindu 
doorways,  and  his  mystic  sign  (familiarly  spoken  of  in 
the  West  as  the  svastika)  is  graved  on  the  first  page  of 
Hindu  account  books  and  ledgers. 

The  medallion  stamped  in  gold  on  the  covers  of 
Kipling's  volumes,  serves  as  a  twofold  symbol  of  good 
luck,  for  it  is  a  representation  of  the  elephant-headed 
Ganesha  and  the  Svastika. 

The  Svastika  is  supposed  to  represent  the  sun  In  its 
journey  through  the  heavens  ;  it  is  the  cross  fylfot  of 
western  heraldry,  the  hermetic  cross  of  freemasonry, 
and  the  mystic  cross  of  North  American  Indians. 

N  193 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Mr.  Lockwood  Kipling  has  written  that,  although 
Ganesha  may  appear  nothing  more  than  a  grotesque 
image  to  the  Western  people,  he  grows  in  interest  as  one 
becomes  familiar  with  his  quaint  character  and  person. 
He  possesses  the  jovial  and  cheery  humour  that  is  im- 
memorially  associated  with  fat  men,  and  has  been 
compared  with  Nick  Bottom  and  Falstaff,  so  that  it  is 
rather  difficult  to  connect  Ganesha  wi^h  Dr.  Doyle's 
story,  in  which  an  Englishman,  after  having  angered  the 
elephant-headed  god,  meets  with  a  tragic  end.  The 
country-side  stories  about  Ganesha  picture  him  as  a 
friendly  soul,  always  willing  to  help  those  in  trouble, 
and  his  gaily  painted  effigy  in  a  household  was  a  certain 
charm  against  all  misfortune. 

In  the  '' Jungle  Book"  we  have  beast  stories  pure  and 
simple,  and  animal  stories  in  which  the  human  element 
enters  as  well  ;  and  I  think  that  Kipling's  power 
is  displayed  to  the  best  advantage  in  the  latter. 
The  three  first  stories,  "  Mowgli's  Brothers,"  "  Kaa's 
Hunting,"  and  "  Tiger,  Tiger  !  "  were  apparently  a 
development  from  "  In  the  Rukh  " — the  delightful 
jungle  sketch  which  to  my  mind  is  the  best  in  "  Many 
Inventions."  In  this  story  the  author  tells  the  reader 
of  Mowgli's  marriage,  and  how  the  little  brown  baby 
born  to  him  is  found  playing  with  a  wolf. 

I  think  it  is  true  to  say  that  most  of  the  jungle  stories 
are  allegorical,  and  charged  with  Imperial  ideals.  For 
instance,  there  is  the  story  of  a  mongoose  Rikki-Tikki- 
Tavi,  which  is  presumably  written  with  a  purpose. 
Here  you  find  Kipling's  infinite  sympathy  with  the  animal 
(or  man)  who  can  do  the  real  fighting.  Rikki-Tikki 
kills  three  snakes  in  succession  and  thereby  saves  the  life 
of  his  protector.  Rikki-Tikki  represents  the  energetic 
and  honourable  English  youth,  ready  at  all  times  to  defend 
the  Empire  from  its  enemies.  Chuchundra,  tne  musk- 
rat,  is  the  indifferent  and  selfish  slacker  who  is  waiting 
to  be  asked  to  help.  Kipling  tells  us  that  "  Chuchundra 
194 


ANIMAL   STORIES 

is  a  broken-hearted  little  beast  "  that  whimpers  and 
cheeps  all  the  night.  He  is  for  ever  trying  to  make  up 
his  mind  to  run  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  but  he  never 
gets  there.  When  Rikki-Tikki  informs  Chuchundra  that 
he  is  out  to  kill  a  cobra  the  musk-rat  becomes  more 
sorrov^ful  than  ever  and  he  cries  till  the  tears  roll  down 
his  whiskers.  "  Those  who  kill  snakes  get  killed  by 
snakes,"  he  sobbed.  But  Rikki  knew  that  Atlas  could 
never  have  carried  the  world  had  he  fixed  his  thought 
on  the  magnitude  of  the  job. 

Each  of  the  stories  is  capped  by  a  sermon  in  verse, 
and  one  of  the  best  poems  is  "  Darjies'  Chaunt,"  which 
is  sung  in  honour  of  Rikki-Tikki  after  his  battle  with 
the  cobras.  The  Swinburne  influence  is  easily  identifiable 
with  this  piece,  in  which  the  only  difference  from  the 
noted  metre  of  "  Atalanta  "  is  the  poet's  use  of  uniform 
trochee  instead  of  the  alternating  iambus. 

The  ''Jungle  Book"  can  be  thoroughly  recommended 
as  a  class-book  in  natural  history.  It  is  unlikely,  of 
course,  that  this  advice  will  be  taken,  as  it  takes  a  long 
time  to  make  schoolmasters  or  those  who  have  the 
selection  of  young  people's  schoolbooks  step  aside  from 
the  old  and  familar  tracks.  Such  a  thing  as  making  a 
schoolbook  attractive  is  not  thought  of,  and  if  it  ever 
has  been,  was  certainly  regarded  as  foolishness.  Kipling's 
animal  studies  are  the  antithesis  of  the  old  school  natural 
history  stories,  which  always  seem  to  lack  inventiveness 
and suggestiveness.  But  perhaps  if  the  ''Jungle  Books" 
received  the  dubious  distinction  of  being  annotated  for 
the  use  of  schools,  they  would  lose  all  the  charm  that 
they  have  previously  held  for  children.  Shakespeare, 
Tennyson,  and  Milton,  in  doses  of  fifty  lines  or  so,  have 
been  crammed  down  the  schoolboy's  throat  with  such 
astonishing  regularity,  that  there  can  be  little  wonder 
in  such  names  becoming  absolutely  repulsive  to  the 
young  student.  This  system  was  probably  born  of 
inertia  on  the  part  of  the  teacher.     He  did  his  duty — 

195 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

and  nothing  more.  The  system  provided  certain  fines 
as  a  punishment  for  failure  to  memorize  lessons,  whereby 
ten  lines  of  Shakespeare  for  "  failure  to  attend  prayers," 
and  "  ten  more  for  failure  to  memorize  other  lines," 
often  places  the  dull  boy  in  a  state  of  hopeless  bankruptcy. 
To  work  and  evolve  in  an  environment  of  such  utter 
despair  is  impossible  to  certain  temperaments  under  this 
scheme.  The  successful  boy  must  become  callous  and 
indifferent,  and  the  boy  of  gentle  habits  and  slight 
physical  force  must  sink  into  mental  nothingness,  and 
perhaps  disease  and  death.  Thomas  Arnold,  master  of 
Rugby,  once  said,  "  My  sympathies  go  out  to  inferiority. 
...  I  once  chided  a  pupil,  a  little,  pale,  stupid  boy — 
undersized  and  seemingly  half  sick — for  not  being  able 
to  recite  his  very  simple  lesson.  He  looked  up  at  me 
and  said  with  a  touch  of  spirit,  '  Sir,  why  do  you  get 
angry  with  me  ?  Do  you  not  know  I  am  doing  the  best 
I  can  ?  '  " 

A  clergyman  present  laughed,  and  asked  the  kindly 
Arnold  how  he  punished  the  child  for  his  impudence. 

Arnold  replied,  "  I  did  not  punish  him — ^he  had 
properly  punished  me.     I  begged  his  pardon." 

The  weakling  often  needs  encouragement  before 
discipline.  The  immature  soul  of  the  child  must  be 
enticed,  not  suppressed. 

As  an  example  of  Kipling's  insight  into  the  natures  of 
animals,  or,  at  any  rate,  his  assumption  of  it,  we  must 
read  his  account  of  the  "  Monkey  People."  Before  I  read 
the  "  Jungle  Book  "  I  had  supposed  the  monkey  possessed 
intelligence  of  a  high  order  and  was  quite  capable  of 
being,  if  not  civilized  exactly,  tamed  to  man's  service. 
Natives  always  say  that  baboons  and  monkeys  can  talk, 
but  are  afraid  to  do  so  within  human  hearing  lest  they 
should  be  captured  and  made  to  work.  But  Kipling 
speaks  of  the  "  Monkey  People  "  in  terms  of  complete 
scorn,  and  when  Mowgli  talks  with  the  Bandar-log  his 
friends,  Baloo  and  Bagheera,  become  very  angry  with 
196 


ANIMAL   STORIES 

him.  "  Listen,  man-cub,"  says  the  Bear  to  Mowgli. 
"  They  have  no  law.  They  are  outcasts.  Their  way 
is  not  our  way.  They  have  no  remembrance.  They 
boast  and  chatter  and  pretend  that  they  are  a  great 
people  about  to  do  great  affairs  in  the  jungle,  but  the 
falling  of  a  nut  turns  their  minds  to  laughter,  and  all  is 
forgotten."  It  must  be  said  that  Kipling's  description 
of  the  "  Monkey  People  "  seems  to  be  an  attempt  to 
expose  and  ridicule  a  certain  class  of  English  political 
life.  It  is  a  parable  much  in  the  same  style  as  "  The 
Mother  Hive  "  in  "  Actions  and  Reactions,"  which  is  a 
violent  attack  on  the  ideas  which  are  indifferently  called 
"  Liberal,"  "  Advanced,"  and  "  Progressive."  Here  is  a 
brief  outline  of  the  story  of  the  bees.  The  stock  of  the 
hive  is  old  and  overcrowded,  and  the  wax-moth  has  laid 
her  eggs  everywhere,  spreading  ruin  and  decay  and  disease 
all  over  the  hive,  and  heretical  doctrine  amongst  the 
workers.  Where  bees  are  too  thick  for  the  comb  there 
must  be  sickness  or  parasites,  and  after  that  chaos.  An 
order  is  given  to  make  pillars  at  the  entrance  to  keep 
out  the  Death's  Head  moth.  But  the  idea  of  a  Death's 
Header  making  an  attack  upon  the  hive  is  viewed  as  an 
impossibility  by  the  indifferent  and  lazy  dwellers  in  the 
hive.  The  downy,  day-old  bees  twiddle  their  thumbs, 
cough,  and  ask,  "  Is  not  the  building  of  pillars  a  waste 
of  wax  ?  "  "  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  if  we  trust  the 
Death's  Head  he  will  attack  us  without  warning  ?  " 
"  Are  not  pillars  un-English  and  provocative  ?  "  So  in 
the  end  the  hive  becomes  full  of  wax-moths  and  ''  od- 
dities," who  hold  "  enquiries  "  and  chatter  about  the 
joy  of  working  amidst  the  "  merry,  merry  blossoms  " — 
and  forget  all  about  the  welfare  and  defence  of  the  hive. 
Then  comes  the  bee-master,  and  when  he  sees  that 
corruption  and  muddle  are  rife,  he  takes  the  hive  and 
casts  it  into  the  fire.  In  vivid  intuition  and  skill  in 
portraiture  this  sketch  can  only  be  compared  with 
Maeterlinck's  "  Life  of  the  Bee,"  both  alike  animated 

197 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

with  the  same  sympathy,  and,  perhaps,  presenting  the 
same  symbolic  significance. 

As  I  have  already  suggested,  "  In  the  Rukh  "  is  the 
stem  from  which  all  the  other  Mowgli  stories  ultimately 
flowered.  These  stories  are  not  directly  the  outcome 
of  such  sketches  as  "  The  Walking  Delegate  "  and  "  The 
Maltese  Cat,"  although  his  pre-eminence  in  that  literary 
model  may  have  helped  Kipling  to  find  his  final  pattern. 
"  In  the  Rukh  "  has  now  been  transferred  to  its  proper 
place  at  the  end  of  the  book  in  which  the  adventures  of 
Mowgli  are  given.  After  having  set  before  us  the 
impressions  that  Mowgli  and  his  brothers  of  the  jungle, 
the  wolves,  made  upon  two  white  men  in  the  Department 
of  Woods,  Kipling  evidently  realized  that  he  had  only 
touched  the  outer  fringe  of  his  subject.  He  saw  how 
rich  it  was  in  its  possibilities.  The  idea  urged  him  to  go 
back  to  a  source  nearer  the  fountain  head,  and  tell  of 
Mowgli's  babyhood  and  jungle  education  without  falling 
back  upon  the  white  man's  civilization  for  balance  and 
ballast  to  his  narrative.  There  is  invention  in  the  early 
story,  and  a  little  imagination.  But  as  Kipling  brooded 
over  the  outline  of  it  after  the  story  had  been  given  to 
the  world,  the  true  imagination  with  all  its  power  came 
to  him,  and  with  breathless  speed  and  wonder  the  jungle 
and  all  its  inhabitants  were  flashed  before  the  author's 
vision.  That  is  the  true  vision,  which  transcends  mere 
invention  with  all  its  multiplied  tricks  of  the  trade. 
It  was  revealed  to  Kipling  that  the  jungle  people  were 
governed  by  laws  just  as  surely  as  a  bank,  a  hotel,  or  an 
Empire  is  governed  by  them.  It  is  this  portrayal  of  the 
beasts  of  the  forest  subject  to  a  relentless  code  which 
explains  why  the  narrative  of  Mowgli's  career  fills  the 
reader  with  a  sense  of  its  completeness.  Kipling  said 
once,  "  When  I  found  the  Law  of  the  Jungle  the  rest 
was  easy  !  " 

But  the  sage  of  the  Jungle  is  never  tedious.  His  insight, 
wit,  and  humour,  have  bestowed  a  freshness  and  gaiety 
198 


ANIMAL   STORIES 

upon  the  adventures  of  Mowgli  which  becomes  contagious 
to  the  reader.  It  is  the  author's  mental  attitude  reflected 
in  Mowgli  that  animates  the  whole  book.  Everybody 
partakes  of  it.  When  the  man-cub  gets  melancholia, 
the  jungle  has  it  and  the  reader  also — the  whole  world 
becomes  tinted  with  ultramarine.  Kipling  is  the  sworn 
enemy  of  the  sentimental,  but  this  does  not  stand  in  the 
way  of  a  very  human  tenderness,  which  is  manifested  in 
many  vivid  and  pathetic  little  pictures  underlying  the 
alert,  joyous  and  breathless  life  of  the  Jungle.  ''Eh  ?  " 
said  Carlyle,  when  he  was  reading  Tennyson's  "  Re- 
venge ;  "  "  Eh  ?  but  he  has  the  grip  of  it  !  "  The  grip 
of  Mowgli  is  still  irresistible,  and  perhaps  the  best  proof 
of  this  is  the  popularity  of  the  "  Jungle  Book  "  all  over 
the  world.  It  is  this  book  which  appeals  most  to  our 
French  friends.  The  troubles  and  trials  of  the  man-cub, 
especially  his  piteous  fate  during  the  spring  running, 
when  the  whole  animal  world  is  pervaded  by  the  im- 
pulses of  love,  and  the  little  human  boy  is  left  desolate 
and  alone  and  is  impelled  to  seek  out  Messua,  the  woman 
who  has  claimed  him  as  a  son,  is,  as  a  French  critic 
described  it,  "  one  of  the  most  beautiful  passages  ever 
written  by  a  man  of  letters." 


199 


I 


CHAPTER  XV 
POETRY 

Kipling  an  expander  of  our  language  :  "  The  Seven  Seas  "  and  a 
verse  from  "  Omar  "  :  A  yearning  for  wonderful  words  ;  A  song 
of  the  guns  :  "  The  Academy  "  quoted  :  George  Moore's  remarks 
on  Kipling  :  Pierre  Loti  :  The  Puritan  strain  in  Kipling  :  The 
strenuous  life  as  a  cure-all :  Carlyle  re-vitalized  :  A  "  Banjo  Bard  "  : 
*'  The  Anchor  Song  "  :  Dana's  "  Sailing  Manual  "  :  A  sea  chantey  : 
"  The  Ballad  of  the  Clampherdown  "  :  The  song  of  the  exiles  : 
"  The  Gipsy  Trail  "  :  "  The  White  Man's  Burden  "  :  A  reply  by 
Mr.  George  Lynch  :  "  Departmental  Ditties  "  :  "  Mary,  Pity 
Women  !  "  :  A  corrective  note  on  the  poem  :  The  liar's  defence  : 
Veiled  arrogance  in  "  Recessional "  :  *'  Pagett,  M.P."  :  "  An 
Unqualified  Pilot." 


Fear  not  that  your  life  shall  come  to  an  end^  but  rather 
fear  that  it  may  never  have  a  beginning. 

Hubbard. 


CHAPTER  XV 

POETRY 

Any  writing  man  who  knows  the  difficulties  of  the  craft 
will  agree  with  me  when  I  say  that  Kipling  can  be 
compared  with  Shakespeare  and  even  with  Chaucer  in 
regard  to  the  wonderful  range  of  words  he  uses.  He 
certainly  is  an  expander  of  our  language.  The  selection 
of  Indian  and  African  words  in  his  poems  ;  the  language 
of  the  barrack-room  ;  the  rough-and-tumble  talk  of  the 
New  England  fishermen  ;  the  professional  slang  in  such 
a  story  as  "  With  the  Night  Mail,"  and  the  jargon  of 
men  who  rove  the  seven  seas,  have  added  a  riot  of  new 
force  and  colour  to  our  language.  Again,  we  have  all 
the  phrases  of  the  Indian  jungle  and  swamp  life  in  his 
collection  of  animal  stories.  He  has  cast  into  his  works 
queer  words  and  phrases,  which  have  in  time  come 
floating  back  in  the  everyday  speech  of  the  people.  Two 
of  his  best  known  phrases  are  the  "  Five  Nations  "  and 
the  "  Seven  Seas."  The  former  phrase  is  a  collective 
term  for  the  nations  which  rallied  to  the  Empire's  call 
during  the  South  African  War :  England,  Australia, 
Canada,  New  Zealand,  and  South  Africa.  On  this 
occasion  Kipling  was  obliged  to  leave  India  out  in  the 
cold  (not  without  a  certain  regret  I  make  sure),  but  he 
has  given  us  the  story,  "  A  Sahibs'  War,"  *  in  which  Um 
Singh,  a  trooper  of  the  141st  Punjab  Cavalry,  presents 
the  Boer  War  from  the  Indian  point  of  view. 

When   "  The    Seven    Seas "   was    published,    people 
were  somewhat  puzzled  as  to  the  meaning  of  this  title. 

*  The  third  story  In  "  Traffics  and  Discoveries." 

203 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

The  inspiration  for  it  has  been  discovered  in  "  Omar." 
The  phrase  occurs  in  Fitzgerald's  translation,  the  third 
edition,  forty-seventh  quatrain : 

When  you  and  I  behind  the  veil  are  fassed, 
Oh,  hut  the  long,  long  while  the  world  shall  last  ! 

Which  of  our  coming  and  de-parting  heeds 
As  the  seven  seas  should  heed  a  pebble  cast. 

Kipling,  in  answer  to  an  editorial  request  in  T.P.^s 
Weekly,  has  put  the  question  of  the  meaning  of  the 
name  of  his  book  to  rest  once  and  for  all.  He  has  given 
his  verdict  as  follows : 

The  Seven  Seas  are  : 
North  Atlantic. 
South  Atlantic. 
North  Pacific. 
South  Pacific. 
Arctic  Ocean. 
Antarctic  Ocean. 
Indian  Ocean. 
Which  Seven  Seas  include  all  the  lesser  ones. 

Scrupulous  choice  and  consideration  of  words  is  one 
of  the  elements  that  make  for  greatness  in  Kipling's 
books.  Every  story,  every  line  he  writes,  is  wrought  out 
with  great  labour.  Do  not  think  for  a  moment  that 
those  wonderful  combinations  of  words,  each  conveying 
a  different  and  subtle  shade  of  meaning  with  which  he 
stars  that  mystical  tale  "  They,"  flow  from  his  pen 
without  delay  or  trouble.  Those  who  have  tried  to 
learn  the  magic  of  words  will  tell  you  there  is  only  one 
way  of  learning — you  have  only  to  be  very  fond  of 
writing  a  phrase,  a  verse  or  a  story  over  and  over  again. 
Does  not  even  the  conjurer  tell  you  the  same  thing  ? 
A  young  man  asked  the  poet  Baudelaire  how  he  could 
learn  the  magic  of  writing.  "  It  depends,"  answered  the 
poet,  "  on  whether  you  really  enjoy  reading  the  dic- 
tionary." So  it  is  of  no  use  longing  to  be  a  Magician 
204 


POETRY 

of  the  Printed  Word  without  longing  to  work.  Kipling, 
one  feels  certain,  has  brought  into  his  work  that  spirit 
which  we  in  England  always  prize  so  highly — a  capacity 
for  sticking  to  the  guns. 

One  might  go  on  writing  indefinitely  on  Kipling's 
yearning  for  and  use  of  strange  and  wonderful  words,  as 
one  after  another  his  stories  recur  to  the  mind.  One 
cannot  forget  certain  of  his  phrases,  they  dwell  indelibly 
with  us.  "  A  well-dark  winding  staircase  "  in  the  "  City 
of  Dreadful  Night  "  brings  the  required  shudder  ; 
"  a  great  rose-grown  gate  in  a  red  wall  "  brings  to  the 
mind  the  garden  that  every  man  remembers,  though  he 
may  have  forgotten  many  things.  Kipling  also  finds  the 
Bible  a  very  fertile  hunting-ground  for  phrases,  and  the 
harmonious  mode  of  speech  peculiar  to  the  work  of  the 
Hebrew  writers  may  be  often  traced  in  his  works.  In  his 
"  School  Song  " — "  Let  us  now  praise  famous  men  " — he 
has  paraphrased  lines  of  that  extraordinary  and  beautiful 
chapter  of  Ecclesiasticus.  Under  whatever  inspiration 
Kipling  happens  to  be  writing,  he  never  fails  to  find 
not  merely  the  right  word,  but  the  most  vivid  form  in 
which  that  word  can  be  enshrined.  When  I  read  of  those 
mammoth  guns  that  Krupps  had  supplied  to  Germany 
for  the  siege  of  Paris,  one  of  Kipling's  lines  written  long 
ago  haunts  my  memory : 

Blind — dumb — broad — breached — beggars  o'  battering-guns. 

There  you  have  it.  These  are  the  real  guns,  drawn 
by  a  train  of  forty  horses  and  vomiting  forth  an  avalanche 
of  destruction.  They  are  the  very  guns  which  you  who 
have  imagination  and  discernment  can  see  are  just  as 
they  must  appear  to  every  war-stained  weary  Tommy  in 
the  trenches.  The  French  soldier  may  turn  his  mind 
to  Victor  Hugo's  demon  carronade,  but  Kipling  gives 
us  the  typically  English  description. 

But  to  return  to  the  magic  of  words.  I  read  some 
time  ago  an  open  letter  to  Kipling  published  in  the 

205 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Academy ^"^  in  which  the  author's  skill  in  sowing  his  works 
throughout  with  flashes  of  ten-word  descriptions  is  set 
forth.  I  take  the  liberty  of  quoting  a  few  lines  of  this 
interesting  letter : 

Of  the  many  writers  whose  works  are  more  or  less  familiar  to  me  you  are 
firmly  fixed  in  my  mind  as  the  Generalissimo  at  whose  command  the  whole 
of  the  various  Vocabulary  Corps  will  move,  be  they  the  Guards  of  Noblest 
English  or  the  Infantry  of  Sterling  Slang — the  Kitcheners  or  the  Mulvaneys 
of  the  language.  I  might  go  further.  For  all  your  Songs  of  the  English 
you  are  capable  of  turning  English  to  a  purpose  which  suggests  that  you 
could,  if  need  be,  take  charge  of  a  cosmopolitan  rabble  of  Verbiage.  I 
shall  never  forget  the  effect  of  the  first  reading  of  one  line  in  "  The  Files." 
The  Sub-Editor  makes  a  pun  which  is  about  the  most  daring  that  has  ever 
found  immortality  outside  the  pages  of  Punch.  In  case  you  do  not  remember 
this  little  excursus  into  the  field  of  the  innocently  atrocious  double  entente 
(which  in  these  days  might  almost  be  accepted  as  a  tribute  to  the  entente 
cordiale)^  I  venture  to  quote  these  lines  from  "  The  Files,"  written  by  the 
author  of  "  Pay,  Pay,  Pay  !  "  and  "  The  Recessional  "  : 

Warn  all  future  Robert  Brownings  and  Carlyles, 

It  will  interest  them  to  haunt  among  the  files. 

Where  uninvited,  a-cold. 

Lie  the  crowded  years  oj  old 

In  that  Kensal-Green  of  greatness  called  the  files — 

{In  our  newspaPere-la-Chaise,  the  office  files). 

Where  the  dead  men  lay  them  down 

Meekly  sure  of  long  renown, 

And  above  them  sere  and  swift. 

Packs  the  daily  deepening  drift 

Of  the  all-recording,  all-efacing  files — 

The  obliterative,  automatic  files. 

In  an  essay  devoted  to  yourself  on  "  the  handling  of  words  " — the  phrase 
reminds  one  still  of  the  part  of  Generalissimo — Miss  Vernon  Lee  once 
took  you  to  task,  very  gently  and  appreciatively,  on  account  of  the  tense  in 
a  passage  selected  at  random  from  that  masterpiece  of  East-cum-West 
fiction,  "  Kim."  If  disposed  to  quarrel  with  your  syntax,  she  nevertheless 
gave  you  credit  for  commanding  attention  by  methods  which  she  likened 
to  the  conjurer's  trick.    NewspaPere-la-Chaise  is  the  conjurer's  trick  in 

•  "  Letters  to  Certain  Eminent  Authors,"  the  Academy,  No.  2192,  May  9, 
1914. 
206 


POETRY 

excelsis  :  it  might  appropriately  be  the  burial-ground  of  a  literary  reputa- 
tion. Tom  Hood  never  perpetrated  a  more  astonishing  verbal  contortion. 
What  chance  have  words  of  rebellion  v^^hen  they  can  be  made  to  perform 
such  antics  by  a  mere  wave  of  the  Kipling  baton  ? 

English  writers  from  time  to  time  have  tried  to  catch 
Kipling  tripping  in  various  v^ays.  Some  have  attacked 
his  use  of  the  English  language,  some  have  questioned 
the  correctness  of  the  detail  in  his  military  and  naval 
stories,  but  it  must  be  admitted  that  in  all  his  voluminous 
and  varied  v^ritings  there  are  few  mistakes.  When  the 
"  Recessional  "  appeared,  loud  was  the  outcry  raised 
over  the  line  "  The  tumult  and  the  shouting  dies." 
Certain  censorious  people  pointed  out  that  the  verb 
should  be  made  plural  in  this  case.  But  as  a  matter 
of  fact  Kipling  was  right,  and  of  course  refused  to 
change  it.  The  figure  of  speech  known  as  "'  hen- 
diadys  "  covers  the  author's  action  in  making  the  verb 
singular.  "  Tumult  and  shouting  "  is  a  phrase  repre- 
senting one  idea  and  agrees  with  the  definition  of 
"  hendiadys,"  which  is  the  use  of  two  words  connected 
by  a  copulative  conjunction  to  express  a  single  complex 
idea. 

A  correspondent  writing  to  a  well-known  literary 
journal  on  the  vexed  question  of  the  verb  and  its  subject 
says :   - 

Rudyard  Kipling,  if  he  sins  at  all  in  this  respect,  sins 
in  good  company.  I  think  those  who  pose  as  critics 
and  authorities  upon  grammar  would  do  well  to  acquaint 
themselves  with  the  text-books  upon  these  matters. 
The  use  of  the  singular  verb  after  two  or  more  sub- 
stantives forming  the  subject,  when  these  substantives 
are  to  be  taken  either  as  forming  one  idea,  or,  for  the 
purpose  of  intensification,  as  a  separate  repetition  of 
each  before  the  verb — an  intention  which  the  reader 
grasps  with  his  mind's  eye,  so  to  speak — is  a  practice 
sanctioned  by  most  grammatical  authorities ;  and  was 
furthermore  consecrated  by  the  use  of  many  illustrious 

207 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

writers,  ages  before   Rudyard  Kipling  was  born.     Here 
are  some  examples : 

Reproach  and  everlasting  shame 
Sits  mocking  on  our  flumes. 

Shakespeare. 

All  torment^  trouble,  wonder,  and  amazement 
Inhabits  here. 

Shakespeare. 

^here  is  tears  for  his  love,  joy  for  his  fortune,  honour  for  his  valour 
and  death  for  his  ambition. 

Shakespeare. 
The  mind  and  sprit  remains 
Invincible. 

Milton. 

Bitter  constraint  and  sad  occasion  dear 
Compels  me  to  disturb  your  season  due. 
Milton. 

Her  heart,  her  mind,  her  love,  is  his  alone. 
Cowley. 

Therein  consists  the  force,  and  use,  and  nature  of  language. 

Berkeley. 

Kipling  has  many  stylistic  mannerisms,  and  at  certain 
times  he  is  inclined  to  overstrain  the  use  of  the  hyphen. 
Lexicographers  have  not  given  any  hard  and  fast  rules 
with  regard  to  the  correct  use  of  this  sign,  but  certainly 
many  of  Kipling's  compounds  are  unnecessary  trans- 
gressions, and  he  can  have  no  excuse  for  such  examples  as 
"  rapidly-filling,"  "  perfectly-tempered,"  "  carefully- 
watched,"  "  shaved-head."  Now  and  again  we  get  long- 
drawn  hyphen  flashes.  Kipling  may  have  acquired  this 
kind  of  colloquialism  in  the  United  States,  where  it  has 
become  an  irritating  habit  with  the  journalist.  Listen 
to  the  following  mannerisms : 

"  You're-only-a-little-girl  "  sort  of  flirtation  ;  "  We 
took  it  easy  that  gun-practice.  We  did  it  in  a  com- 
208 


POETRY 

plimentary  '  Jenny-have-another-cup-of-tea  '  style  "  ; 
"  painty-winged,  wand-waving,  sugar-and-shake-your- 
head  set  of  impostors."  In  "  Just  So  Stories  "  Kipling 
perhaps  reached  the  very  limit  of  linguistic  recklessness 
and  plays  ducks  and  drakes  with  word-formation. 

But  enough  of  this  !  The  object  of  this  chapter  was 
neither  to  indulge  in  a  stylistic-philological  study  of  the 
author's  works  nor  in  a  list  of  his  errors.  It  was  to  try 
and  discover  Kipling's  wonderland  of  words.  The 
instruction  one  derives  from  any  single  volume  of 
Kipling  is  incalculable.  One  of  Stevenson's  heroes  said 
of  Whitaker  that  he  acquired  more  information  from  the 
volume  than  he  would  be  able  to  make  use  of  in  a  life- 
time.    That  is  how  I  felt  after  reading  "  Kim." 

Kipling's  enthusiasm  for  the  pageant  of  modern 
industrialism  has  always  been  clear  to  the  reader.  As  a 
boy,  he  was  known  to  be  more  inquisitive  about  the 
tradesman  or  the  mechanic  than  his  schoolfellows. 
There  are  several  passages  in  "  Stalky  and  Co."  which 
throw  a  sidelight  on  his  predilection  for  professional 
terms.  He  loves  to  wallow  in  the  technicalities  of  any 
trade  or  calling.  To  bear  myself  out,  if  the  reader  turns 
to  "  Stalky  and  Co."  he  will  find  that  one  of  Kipling's 
schoolfellows  chaffs  him  for  being  so  ''  filthy  technical," 
and  upon  another  occasion,  when  Beetle  (Kipling)  is 
assisted  by  Stalky  and  McTurk  in  the  setting  up  of  the 
Swillingford  Patriot,  he  is  requested  not  to  be  "so 
beastly  professional  "  in  his  directions  to  the  "Staff." 
Certain  of  his  works  are  starred  with  racy  Americanisms. 
One  might  almost  pick  out  the  works  which  came  from 
his  pen  during  his  long  stay  in  his  wife's  native  country. 
I  think  that  period  covered  from  August  1892  to  Sep- 
tember 1896.  And  the  books  which  were  written 
during  this  sojourn  are  characteristic  of  the  American 
dialect  ;  you  find  it  in  "  Captains  Courageous,"  "  .007," 
"  A  Walking  Delegate,"  "  Many  Inventions,"  and  most 
particularly  in  the  "  Jungle  Books."     "  My  speech  is 

o  209 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

clean  and  single,  I  talk  of  common  things,"  he  has 
written  in  some  verses  on  Canada  :  that  is  exactly  what 
he  has  done,  and  he  has  done  it  in  such  a  thorough- 
going way  that  the  speech  of  common  things  threatens 
to  become  involved,  especially  when  he  goes  to  the 
Anglo-Indian,  Cockney,  Yorkshire,  Irish,  Scotch,  Afri- 
cander, Sussex  and  American  dialects  for  word-forage. 

In  an  article  in  the  Pall  Mall  Magazine  which  appeared 
in  1904,  Mr.  George  Moore  pays  a  good  deal  of  attention 
to  Kipling's  prose  works.     With  that  acute  and  analytic 
intelligence  which   seems   to   be   common   to   all   Irish 
writers,  he  has  endeavoured  to  tear  from  Kipling  the 
secrets  that  most    assuredly    underlie    the  eclat  of  his 
literary    progress.     Mr.    Moore    remarks    that    in    the 
'eighties  none  knew  what  world  Kipling  was  going  to 
reveal.     That  world  had  now  become  a  known  quantity, 
and  he  does  not  think  that  such  words  as  "  noble  "  and 
"  beautiful  "    could   be   applied   to   it.     After   groping 
among  Kipling's  writings  he  suggests  such  adjectives  as 
"  rough,"  "  harsh,"  and  "  coarse-grained."     He  utterly 
refuses   to   be   dazzled   by  those   qualities   of  strength, 
coarseness,  and   of  lavish   eloquence,  such   as   we  have 
always  associated  with  our  most  essentially  democratic 
poet.     Mr.  Moore  takes  "  Kim,"  and  as  he  reads  he 
finds  more  and  more  amiss  with  it.     He  says  that  at 
first  the  reader  may  be  fascinated  by  "  Kim  "  because 
he  has  been  so  well  observed  and  so  sedulously  imitated  : 

The  Lama  we  can  see  as  if  he  were  before  us — an  old  man  in  his  long 
habit  and  his  rosary ;  we  hear  his  continuous  mumbling ;  but  very  soon 
we  perceive  that  Kim  and  the  Lama  are  fixed — we  have  not  read  thirty 
pages  before  we  see  that  those  two  will  be  the  same  at  the  end  of  the  book 
as  they  were  in  the  beginning. 

None  the  less  this  critic  sees  clearly  that  Kipling  is  a 
master  of  words,  and  grants  him  a  facile  command  of 
language.  But  he  is  careful  to  note  that  it  is  only  an 
expression  of  riotous  strength  and  superabundant  animal 
210 


POETRY 

vigour,  combined  with  a  keen  eye  for  all  the  coloured 
details  of  life.  Mr.  Moore  points  out  that  none  since 
the  Elizabethans  have  written  with  such  command  over 
the  language : 

Others  have  written  more  beautifully,  but  no  one  that  I  can  call  to 
mind  at  this  moment  has  written  so  copiously.  Shelley  and  Wordsworth, 
Landor  and  Pater,  wrote  with  part  of  the  language  ;  but  who  else,  except 
Whitman,  has  written  with  the  whole  language  since  the  Elizabethans  ? 
"  The  flannelled  fool  at  the  wicket,  the  muddied  oaf  at  the  goal,"  is  wonderful 
language.  He  writes  with  the  eye  that  appreciates  all  that  the  eye  can 
see,  but  of  the  heart  he  knows  nothing,  for  the  heart  cannot  be  observed  ; 
his  characters  are  therefore  external,  and  they  are  stationary. 

Now  it  appears  to  the  reader  of  the  above  passage  that 
Mr.  Moore  voices  the  opinion  that  Kipling's  work  is 
extremely  consistent  from  first  to  last  ;  that  the  excep- 
tional brilliancy  of  his  impression  painting  with  which 
he  burst  forth  so  suddenly  upon  a  jaded  literary  world  is 
preserved  faithfully  in  his  later  volumes  ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  progressed  in  the 
deeper  thoughts  on  human  life.  I  think  that  many 
critics  will  be  minded  to  dissent  strongly  from  Mr. 
Moore  when  he  says  Kipling  "  knows  nothing  of  the 
heart."  There  is  certainly  little  ground  to  support  this 
hypothesis,  if  some  of  the  author's  late  stories  be  care- 
fully studied  ;  that  the  peculiarly  ingenious  novelties  of 
Mulvaney,  Ortheris,  and  Learoyd  should  be  misunder- 
stood by  Mr.  Moore  is,  I  suppose,  quite  natural  ;  but 
when  he  has  nothing  to  say  about  the  deep  insight  of 
"  Without  Benefit  of  Clergy,"  "  Wee  Willie  Winkie," 
and  "  Little  Tobrah,"  one  is  forced  to  protest.  Again, 
take  the  story  ''  They  "  ;  here  Kipling's  almost  faultless 
artistic  instinct  enters,  and  we  find  in  it  a  wonderful 
perception  of  the  heart  of  a  child  ;  like  the  ''  Story  of 
My  Heart  "  by  Jefferies,  it  is  an  autobiography  of  the 
soul.  Later,  Mr.  Moore  makes  a  comparison  between 
a  certain  inner  coldness  and  hardness  he  finds  in  much 
of  Kipling's  work  with  the  manner  of  Pierre  Loti : 

211 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

One  writer  blows  his  pipe  on  the  hill-side,  the  other  blares  like  a  military- 
band  ;  all  brass  and  reed  instruments  are  included  in  this  band,  Mr. 
Kipling's  prose  goes  to  a  marching  rhythm,  the  trumpet's  blare  and  the 
fife's  shriek  ;  there  is  the  bass  clarionet  and  the  great  brass  tuba  that  emits 
a  sound  like  the  earth  quaking  fathoms  deep  or  the  cook  shovelling  coal  in 
the  coal-cellar.  The  band  is  playing  variations  :  but  variations  on  what 
theme  ?  The  theme  will  appear  presently  .  .  .  Listen  !  There  is  the 
theme,  the  shoddy  tune  of  the  average  man — "  I  know  a  trick  worth  two 
of  that." 

In  this  phrase  of  Dick  Heldar,  "  I  know  a  trick  worth 
two  of  that,"  Mr.  Moore  finds  not  only  the  condensed 
representation  of  "  The  Light  that  Failed,"  but  the 
epitome  and  quintessence  of  Kipling's  creed.  The  critic 
who  searches  may  find,  it  is  true,  reflections  of  this 
phrase  in  Kipling  ;  but  it  is  the  "  trick  "  that  gives  one 
the  grip  on  life  and  a  renewed  determination  to  play 
the  game  through. 

Kipling's  style  has  often  been  likened  to  that  of  Pierre 
Loti.  Still,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  work  of  the 
former  is  wider  in  its  scope,  and  more  varied  in  its 
characteristics  than  that  of  the  French  author.  Kipling's 
tales  of  Indian  life,  for  instance,  exhibit  a  superabundance 
of  genuine  invention  which  is  totally  lacking  in  the 
stories  of  Pierre  Loti.  While  Loti,  as  a  young  naval 
officer  on  foreign  service,  was  content  to  write  the  love 
stories  of  yellow  and  tawny  native  Cyprians  in  a  more 
natural  and  piquant  manner  than  his  predecessors  had 
done,  Kipling  was  making  a  determined  protest  against 
all  such  outworn  literary  conventions.  In  Loti's  stories 
of  his  amorous  adventures  in  Turkey,  Tahiti,  Senegal, 
and  Japan,  there  is,  to  be  sure,  a  freshness  of  style 
and  a  certain  triteness  of  expression  which  one  might 
connect  with  the  creator  of  Mulvaney,  but  apart  from 
that,  the  monotony  of  plot  and  sentiment  is  in  striking 
contrast  with  Kipling's  glorious  field  of  imaginative 
power. 

Kipling  has  always  objected  to  the  interviewer.  But 
Dr.  Kellner,  author  of  the  "  History  of  English  Litera- 

212 


POETRY 

ture  in  the  Victorian  Era,"  was  permitted  to  visit  him  in 
1898.  He  summed  up  his  impressions  of  his  visit  to 
Rottingdean  in  the  memorable  phrase,  ""  To-day  I  have 
seen  happiness  face  to  face."  Authentic  descriptions  of 
the  inner  side  of  Rudyard  Kipling  and  his  home  are  so 
scarce  that  I  venture  to  draw  upon  Dr.  Kellner's  inter- 
view. 

The  work-room  is  of  surprising  simplicity :  the  north  wall  is  covered 
with  books  half  its  height,  over  the  door  hangs  a  portrait  of  Burne- Jones 
(Mr.  Kipling's  uncle),  to  the  right  near  the  window  stands  a  plain  table — ■ 
not  a  writing-table — on  which  lie  a  couple  of  pages  containing  verses.  No 
works  of  art,  no  conveniences,  no  knick-knacks,  the  unadorned  room  simple 
and  earnest  like  a  Puritan  chapel. 

Dr.  Kellner  remarks  that  the  old  Puritan  strain  in 
Kipling  probably  aided  him  to  keep  a  cool  head  in  his 
hour  of  triumph.  "  I  am  very  distrustful  against  fame," 
said  Kipling,  "  very  distrustful  against  praise."  It  is  a 
pity  that  this  self-critical  and  distrustful  attitude  has 
not  been  strong  in  the  minds  of  many  other  great  men — 
Oscar  Wilde,  for  example.  "  You  know  the  fate  of 
eighteenth-century  English  literature,  how  many  '  im- 
mortal '  poets  that  prolific  time  brought  forth,  and  yet 
how  much  of  this  '  immortal  '  poetry  still  lives  in  our 
time  ?  To  name  only  one — who  reads  Pope  nowadays  t 
I  often  run  over  these  volumes  "  (here  he  pointed  to  the 
"  Edition  de  Luxe  "  of  his  own  works)  "  and  think  to 
myself  how  much  of  that  which  is  printed  on  such 
beautiful  paper  ought  never  to  have  seen  the  light. 
How  much  was  written  for  mere  love  of  gain,  how  often 
has  the  knee  been  bowed  in  the  house  of  Rimmon  ?  " 
(a  favourite  expression  of  Kipling's). 

The  conversation  of  Kipling  reflects  his  spontaneity 
buoyancy  of  success,  love  of  outdoor  life,  and  exuberant 
good  health.  He  understands  as  few  writers  have  ever 
done  the  secret  of  balance  in  his  work — the  balance  of 
the  serious  with  the  humorous,  the  pathetic  with  the 
merry,  of  work  with  rest. 

213 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

He  knows  that  ideas  do  not  always  come  when  one 
sits  down  at  his  desk  and  cudgels  one's  brains,  and  most 
of  the  work  that  he  turns  out  under  pressure  of  this 
kind  finds  its  way  to  the  wastepaper  basket,  from  which 
"  Recessional  "  (as  it  has  been  printed)  was  rescued.  So 
he  puts  himself  in  a  receptive  mood,  and  digs  in  the 
garden,  and  lo,  the  ideas  surge  through  him : 

7he  cure  for  this  ill  is  not  to  sit  still. 

Or  frowst  with  a  hook  hy  the  -fire  ; 
But  to  take  a  large  hoe  and  a  shovel  also. 

And  dig  till  you  gently  perspire 

Rest  is  rust  ;  the  mintage  of  wisdom  is  to  know  that  real 
life  lies  in  laughter  and  work. 

Kipling  is  devoted  to  his  garden,  is  fond  of  fishing, 
and  I  came  across  a  report  in  an  American  paper  that  he 
could  handle  a  plough  and  drive  a  straight  furrow  with 
the  best  of  ploughmen. 

He  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  Cecil  Rhodes.  He  knew 
him  personally,  and  has  remarked  that  "  Rhodes  was 
greater  than  his  work."  Kipling  is  not  in  favour  of  the 
annexation  of  one  white  nation  by  another.  "  It  is  the 
greatest  crime  that  a  politician  can  commit.  Don't 
annex  white  men,"  he  remarked. 

"  What  about  black  men  ?  "  he  was  asked. 

''  I  am  against  slavery,"  was  the  answer,  "  if  only  for 
the  reason  that  the  white  man  becomes  demoralized  by 
slavery." 

The  Review  of  Reviews,  April  1 899,  remarked  that  the 
"  influence  of  Kipling  on  politics  is  something  like  that 
of  Carlyle."  Both  are  preachers  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
drill  sergeant  ;  one  worshipped  Frederick  the  Great,  the 
other  Sergeant  What'sname,  ''  who  drilled  a  black  man 
white  and  made  a  mummy  fight."  Certainly  Kipling, 
like  Carlyle,  believes  in  work  and  the  strenuous  life  as  a 
cure-all.  His  verse  pulses  and  throbs  with  the  gospel  of 
work,  and  he  has  written  much  which  one  might  regard 
214 


POETRY 

as  Carlyle  re-vitalized.     Take  the  following  paragraph 
from  Carlyle : 

For  there  is  a  perennial  nobleness,  and  even  sacredness,  in  Work.  Were 
he  never  so  benighted,  forgetful  of  his  high  calling,  there  is  always  hope  in 
a  man  that  actually  and  earnestly  works.  In  idleness  alone  is  there  perpetual 
despair.  Work,  never  so  Mammonish,  is  in  communication  with  Nature  ; 
the  real  desire  to  get  Work  done  with  itself  leads  one  more  and  more  to 
truth,  to  Nature's  appointments  and  regulations,  which  are  truth. 

These  lines  almost  define  the  aspiration  of  Kipling's 
muse.  Work  has  been  saluted  by  him  in  the  splendid 
verse  v^hich  ends : 

Each  for  the  joy  of  the  workings  and  each  in  his  separate  star. 

Shall  draw  the  Thing  as  he  sees  It,  for  the  God  oj  Things  as  They  Are. 

"  Kipling's  God  is  the  God  of  the  Old  Norse  Sea 
Kings,  the  fighting  God,  the  Lord  of  the  Hosts  of 
Cromv^ell,  a  terribly  real  and  aw^ful  Deity,  w^ho,  never- 
theless, can  sympathize  v^ith  a  first-rate  fighting  man, 
and  will  in  the  end  see  that  justice  is  done,"  writes  a 
critic  in  the  Review  of  Reviews. 

There  are  mingled  elements  in  Kipling's  blood,  but 
there  is  more  of  the  Puritan  strain  than  anything  else. 
Those  who  have  known  the  man  do  not  doubt  it,  and  to 
my  mind  at  least,  his  genius  yields  the  strongest  proof  of 
it  in  "  Recessional,"  in  which  he  strikes  with  an  unerring 
hand  the  lyre  of  the  Hebrew  bard.  Man  is  unto  himself 
a  mystery :  by  ways  strange  and  undreamed  of,  across 
the  opposing  currents  of  a  lifetime,  the  soul  of  a  race 
wins  back  to  its  own.  Kipling  remains  Methodist  in 
soul,  spite  of  his  years  in  India,  spite  of  his  immersion  in 
the  great  sea  of  Imperialism,  spite  even  of  the  profane 
language  of  the  barrack-room.  Oh  yes,  the  pendulum 
always  swings  back  and  the  immemorial  claims  of  race 
and  blood  strive  within  him  for  reassertion  : 

God  oj  our  fathers,  known  oj  old  .  .  .he  with  us  yet. 

The  "  Song  of  the  English  "  is  as  direct,  as  simple  and 

2IS 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

as  forceful  as  "  Recessional."  Our  duty  is  to  hold  the 
faith  our  fathers  sealed  and  to  keep  the  law  of  our 
Imperial  mission.  Kipling's  modern  saint  gets  into  the 
game  and  plays  it.  The  man  who  endeavours  to  keep 
himself  "  unspotted  from  the  world  "  he  looks  upon  as 
a  rogue  and  a  coward.  The  more  we  understand  life, 
the  better  shall  we  comprehend  death  is  the  decision 
always  arrived  at  by  Kipling. 

Critics  have  dubbed  him  the  "  Banjo  Bard  "  with 
contempt.  But  after  reading  "  The  Song  of  the  Banjo," 
one  begins  to  realize  that  this  epithet  loses  all  its  intended 
sting.  Here  is  a  rare  song,  illuminated  throughout  by 
flashes  of  heroic  life,  sealed  by  the  personality  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon,  and  all  credit  goes  to  the  splendiferous 
adventurer  who  can  hammer  such  haunting  music  out 
of  the  democratic  banjo.  How  all  the  intolerable 
hindrances  and  disappointments  of  the  pioneer  flash  to 
the  mind  in  the  line  : 

/  have  told  the  naked  stars  the  Grief  oj  Man. 

In  some  respects  the  "  Song  of  the  Banjo  "  reminds 
the  reader  of  the  spasmodic  conversations  of  Mr.  Jingle 
in  "  Pickwick  " — sudden  spurts  of  thought  and  fancy 
and  description,  with  a  ''  pilly- willy- winky-popp  "  for 
breath  pause,  and  then  on  again  with  the  "  war  drum  of 
the  white  man  round  the  world." 

Some  of  the  less  aspiring  ballads  have  an  excellent  go 
about  them.  Let  us  take  one  example  from  "  Puck  of 
Pooks  Hill,"  called  "  The  Smuggler's  Song  "  ;  this  poem 
is  worthy  of  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 

It  is  not  easy  to  determine  the  value  of  such  poems  as 
"  If—  "  and  "  The  Thousandth  Man."  Whatever  may 
be  their  faults — and  they  seem  to  contain  many — as  pure 
poetry,  they  are  charged  with  a  note  of  materialistic 
realism,  and  urge  the  high  doctrine  of  loyalty,  which 
appeals  at  once  to  the  everyday  sentiments  of  the  average 
man.  Had  Kipling  been  more  of  an  idealist  he  would 
216 


POETRY 

have  soared  too  high  over  the  heads  of  the  people  ;  but 
he  knew  that  one  cannot  carry  soldiers,  sailors,  colonizers, 
and  codfishers  w^ith  one  in  these  tov^ering  flights  with 
Pegasus. 

That  section  of  Kipling's  verse  which  deals  with 
nature  and  outdoor  life  must  be  placed  in  a  division  by 
itself.  Some  of  the  poems  in  which  he  sings  of  the 
''  go  fever  "  reminds  one  of  the  exquisitely  phrased  pagan 
glorification  of  mere  existence  of  Borrow's  "  Lavengro  "  : 

Life  is  sweet,  brother  .  .  .  There's  night  and  day,  brother,  both  sweet 
things :  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  brother,  all  sweet  things ;  there's  likewise  the 
wind  on  the  heath.    Life  is  very  sweet,  brother  ;  who  would  wish  to  die  ? 

Mr.  J.  De  Lancey  Ferguson,  of  Columbia  University, 
said  that  so  far  as  the  love  of  out-of-doors  was  made 
a  subject  of  poetry  by  Kipling's  predecessors,  it  was 
seldom  more  than  a  repeated  desire  to  follow  the  baying 
hounds,  or  to  sport  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade.  He 
pointed  out  that  none  of  the  poets  ever  mentioned 
what  he  would  do  if  it  were  cold  or  wet,  or  if  the  sea 
were  really  rough.  But  Kipling  has  changed  all  this,  for 
he  hunts  on  new  trails.  He  has  hymned  the  ship 
engineer  and  the  locomotive  driver.  He  has  sung  of 
the  sailor's  love  of  the  sea,  of  the  pleasure  in  the  bucking, 
beam  sea  roll  of  a  coffin  screw-steamer  with  her  loadline 
over  her  hatch,  and  a  shifting  cargo  of  rails.  He  has 
sung  of  the  "  ram-you-dam-you  liner  with  a  brace  of 
bucking  screws,"  of  sealers  fighting  to  the  death  in  a 
fog,  of  the  cattle-boat  men  who  made  a  contract  with 
God,  and  of  the  wholly  unauthorized  horde  of  "  Gentle- 
men Rovers  " — the  legion  of  the  lost  ones,  the  cohort 
of  the  damned. 

"  The  Anchor  Song  "  is  an  ambitious  attempt  to  force 
sea  terms  and  words  of  command  to  accommodate 
themselves  to  the  uses  of  verse.  It  will  be  noticed  that 
the  instructions  given  by  a  master  of  a  sailing  vessel  in 
getting  his  ship  off  to  sea  are  arranged  in  their  exact 

217 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

order  in  this  poem.  It  should  be  pointed  out  that 
some  of  the  words  of  command  which  Kipling  uses  here 
are  now  rapidly  passing  out  of  use.  It  is  interesting  to 
note  that  "  The  Anchor  Song "  follows  closely  the 
instructions  given  in  Dana's  Sailing  Manual  for  getting 
a  boat  away. 

Many  of  Kipling's  sea  verses  are  written  on  the  true 
chantey  model.  The  refrain  "  A-hoy  O  !  To  me  O  !  " 
in  "  Frankie's  Trade  "  is  to  be  found  in  many  sailor 
songs.  Some  of  these  chanteys  are  based  on  fragments 
of  topical  song  adapted  by  the  musical  seaman  ;  some  go 
back  through  the  centuries  till  we  find  parallels  to  their 
tunes  in  the  glorious  sea  days  of  the  great  Elizabeth. 
They  often  bear  with  them  a  rich  legacy  of  nautical 
memories,  and  no  doubt  Kipling  has  realized  that  the 
indispensable  kernel  of  the  true  sea  song  is  to  be  found 
in  these  quaint  chanteys. 

I  give  the  following  remarkably  mournful  song,  with 
a  long  dragging  chorus,  to  show  how  closely  Kipling  has 
modelled  some  of  his  new  ballads  on  the  chantey.  It 
is  likely  that  this  one  has  lifted  the  sail  of  many  a 
clipper  of  the  sixties : 

Solo.         Tommy's  gone,  what  shall  I  do  ? 

Chorus.    Hurrah^  Hilo. 

Solo.         Tommy's  gone,  what  shall  I  do  F 

Chorus.     Tom's  gone  to  Hilo. 

Solo.         To  Liverfool^jthat  noted  school. 

To  Liverpool,  that  noted  school. 

Tommy's  gone  to  Quebec  town. 

Tommy'' s  gone  to  Quebec  town. 

There's  Pretty  Sail  and  Jenny  Brown, 

There's  Pretty  Sail  and  Jenny  Brown, 

A -dancing  on  that  stony  ground, 

A-dancing  on  that  stony  ground, 

Tommys  gone  to  Baltimore, 

A-rolling  on  the  sandy  floor. 

Tommy's  gone  to  Mobille  Bay, 

To  roll  down  cotton  all  the  day, 
2l8 


POETRY 

He*s  gone  away  to  Dixie's  Land, 
Where  there's  roses  red  and  violets  blue. 
Up  aloft  that  yard  must  go, 
I  thought  I  heard  the  skipper  say, 
That  he  would  put  her  through  to-day. 
Shake  her  up  and  let  her  go. 
Stretch  her  leech  and  shew  her  clew. 
One  pull  more  and  that  will  do. 

Chorus.    Hurrah,  Hilo. 

Solo.         One  pull  more  and  that  will  do. 

Chorus.    Tom^s  gone  to  Hilo. 

Belay! 

"  The  Ballad  of  the  Clampherdown  "  was  one  of  the 
poems  that  first  exhibited  Kipling  just  as  much  a  poet 
of  the  sailor  as  the  soldier.  Perhaps  the  technical  terms 
are  rather  bewildering,  and  a  brief  explanation  of  some 
of  them  may  be  of  interest  to  the  reader  : 

Stays.     Wire  ropes  which  uphold  the  masts  and  funnels  of  the  battleship. 

"  Make  it  so."  The  expression  of  assent  used  by  a  naval  officer  to  a 
subordinate. 

Ram.  The  Ram  is  a  part  of  the  machinery  of  the  gun.  It  is  used  for 
ramming  the  projectile  and  charge  home.  When  Kipling  published  this 
poem  the  ram  was  worked  by  steam,  and  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  turret 
would  be  filled  with  steam  if  this  part  of  the  gear  should  get  out  of  order. 
The  ram  is  now  hydraulic. 

Hotchkiss.    Quick-firing  machine  gun. 

Nordenjelt.    Quick-firing  machine  gun. 

Runners.    These  are  steel  rails  on  which  the  gun  is  moved. 

Thresher.    The  fox-shark  that  often  attacks  the  whale. 

"  Lie  dozen."  The  A.B.  is  told  to  lie  down  on  account  of  the  terrific 
shock  that  may  occur  by  the  force  of  contact  when  the  ships  collide. 

The  Waist.    The  centre  part  of  a  ship. 

The  fascination  of  this  ballad  was,  that  no  one  at  the 
time  it  was  written,  was  able  entirely  to  realize  what  the 
conditions  would  be  like  in  a  heavy  action  fought  with 
modern  ships.  They  know  now  at  any  rate  !  The 
turret  of  a  modern  battleship  has  been  greatly  altered 
since  the  days  of  the  Clamfherdown.     Of  course   the 

219 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

reader  knows  that  the  turret  is  the  flat-topped  structure 
containing  the  steel  rooms  which  protect  the  guns  and 
their  mountings  on  a  battleship.  The  British  Dread- 
noughts carry  two  thirteen-inch  guns  in  the  fore  and 
after  turrets.  Each  gun  and  gun  crew  is  contained  in  a 
little  semicircular  chamber  lit  by  a  blaze  of  electric 
light.  The  gunlayer  stands  with  his  eye  to  the  telescope 
of  the  sighting  apparatus,  with  a  hand  on  a  wheel  which 
adjusts  the  gun.  Two  men  stand  by  the  breech  and 
another  is  at  the  control  of  the  ram.  Behind  the  gun 
stands  the  commander  of  the  turret.  By  a  touch  of  a 
lever  the  breech  swings  open  and  the  ram  darts  into  the 
breach  like  a  tongue  of  flame,  and  immediately  shoots 
back  again.  Then  it  is  known  that  all  is  clear.  The  lift 
brings  up  the  huge  projectile  weighing  nearly  half  a  ton,- 
and  two  charges  of  cordite,  which  it  thrusts  on  to  a 
stage  in  line  with  the  open  breech.  The  ram  again 
flashes  out  and  pushes  the  projectile  home,  after  which 
the  lift  brings  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of 
cordite  into  line,  which  is  also  in  its  turn  rammed  into 
the  gaping  maw  of  the  gun.  A  quick  turn  of  a  small 
wheel  and  the  breech-block  slips  back  sighingly  and 
closes  with  a  click.  "  The  left  gun  is  ready,  sir."  A 
voice  gives  the  range,  and  in  answer  to  various  levers 
and  wheels  the  gun  or  the  turret  swings  about  as  if  they 
were  toys.  All  is  silent  now.  Silence  is  a  comparative 
term,  for  it  is  never  quite  quiet  at  sea,  and  after  a  second 
or  so  you  distinguish  confusedly  the  hiss  and  sigh  of  the 
rushing  water  in  the  hydraulic  press  which  controls  the 
movement  of  turret  and  gun.  When  the  sights  are 
reported  "  on  "  the  word  that  is  to  hurl  a  thousand 
pounds  of  death  at  the  rate  of  a  thousand  or  so  yards 
a  second  is  waited  for.  "  Fire  !  "  The  gun-layer  pulls 
the  trigger  and  the  projectile  is  launched  on  its  mission 
of  shattering  damnation.  The  breech  block  again  swings 
open  and  the  burning  fragments  of  the  charge  are  cleared 
out  by  a  sharp  air-blast  and  afterwards  the  ram  darts 

220 


POETRY 

in  and  mops  it  clean.  The  gun  is  now  ready  for  another 
cycle  of  the  same  operations. 

There  are  ten  of  these  steel  rooms  on  the  modern 
battleship,  which  are  contained  in  five  turrets,  and  they 
are  all  linked  up  by  telephones  and  speaking  tubes  with 
the  "  brain  "  in  the  belted  waist,  where  the  captain  and 
gunnery  officer  can  play  upon  the  whole  fighting  machine 
as  a  man  may  play  upon  the  clarionet.  At  a  word  the 
crackling  quick-firing  guns  on  the  "  tops  "  can  be  played 
or  the  light  twelve-pounders  introduced  into  the  devilish 
orchestra.  At  the  pressing  of  a  button,  vast  organs  will 
peal  forth  above  the  small  chattering  guns  great  chords 
of  death — the  chords  of  the  terrible  thirteen-inch  guns. 

We  find  another  aspect  of  the  poet's  verse  in  "  Christ- 
mas in  India."  Besides  the  songs  of  the  "  Go-fever  "  and 
"  Wanderlust,"  he  has  given  us  the  song  of  homesickness, 
and  it  is  a  wonderful  expression  of  those  war-weary 
exiles  who  wait  in  "  heavy  harness  on  fluttered  folk  and 
wild."  Say  what  you  will  of  the  roughness  and  selfish- 
ness of  men,  at  the  last  they  long  for  companionship 
and  the  fellowship  of  our  kind.  We  are  like  lost  children, 
and  when  alone  and  the  darkness  gathers,  we  long  for  the 
close  relationship  of  those  brothers  and  sisters  we  left 
behind  us  in  our  childhood  and  long  for  the  magic  touch 
of  those  gentle  arms  that  once  rocked  us  to  sleep.  These 
are  the  thoughts  of  the  exile  which  burn  like  irons. 

"  The  Gipsy  Trail,"  an  uncollected  poem  which 
appeared  in  the  Century  of  December  1892,  partakes  of 
the  nature  of  the  "  open-air  "  or  George  Borrow  chant. 
It  is  a  distinct  departure  from  his  habitual  style  : 

Out  of  the  dark  of  the  Gorgio  camp, 

Out  of  the  grime  and  the  grey, 
{Morning  waits  at  the  end  of  the  world), 

Gipsy,  come  away  / 

"  The  White  Man's  Burden,"  like  many  other  phrases 
from  Kipling's  pen,  is  already  one  of  the  stock  references 

221 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

of  writers  and  speakers.  Plays,  short  stories,  pictures 
and  novels  have  been  written  with  it  as  a  text.  It  is  this 
power  of  coining  striking  phrases  that  causes  even  his 
doggerel  to  pass  thoroughly  into  everyday  life.  Poetry 
does  not  always  require  wisdom  of  the  intellect  and 
scholarliness  to  be  great.  Burns,  Blake,  Keats,  Poe, 
Whitman  show  how  a  lack  of  scholarship  is  often  com- 
pensated by  an  intuitive  wisdom  of  heart  and  emotion. 
"  The  White  Man's  Burden  "  is  a  song  of  Imperialism 
which  is  not  to  be  confused  with  the  flaunty  Jingoism  of 
the  music-halls.  Kipling  has  put  the  Imperialist  doctrine 
on  the  right  basis,  and  in  this  poem  he  passionately  and 
seriously  formulates  the  only  true  moral  basis  of  Empire. 
It  was  this  poem  which  more  than  any  other  did  so  much 
to  hearten  the  Americans  to  attempt  the  preliminary 
conquest  of  a  silent,  sullen  people,  "  half  devil  and  half 
child."  The  toil,  fatigue,  and  bloodshed  which  were  the 
preliminaries  of  taking  up  the  white  man's  burden  in  the 
Philippines,  almost  disheartened  the  people  of  the  United 
States.  But  they  had  to  learn  that  such  sacrifices  are 
imposed  upon  all  who  would  tread  the  path  of  Empire. 
Whatever  may  be  said  concerning  the  methods  of  the 
States  in  shouldering  these  burdens,  we  as  a  nation  have 
played  our  part.  Our  share  of  those  silent,  sullen  people 
amounts  to  four  hundred  millions,  while  the  other  white 
nations  of  the  world  wage  "  the  savage  wars  of  peace  " 
with  only  a  hundred  millions.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that 
each  white  man  under  British  rule  is  responsible  for  seven 
black  or  copper-coloured  men. 

The  old  Puritan  spirit  breathes  in  every  line  of  "  The 
White  Man's  Burden."  As  the  Infinite  Drill-Sergeant 
who  is  above  all  Princes  and  Kings  is  the  guide  of  the 
White  Man,  so  must  the  White  Man  be  the  Providence 
of  the  Black  People.  Needless  to  say  these  verses  have 
provoked  many  parodies  and  replies,  in  which  the 
poetasters  never  fail  to  inform  the  public  how  we  have 
robbed  the  "  sullen  people."     One,  which  was  published 

222 


POETRY 

in  Concord  and  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  George  Lynch,  is 
certainly  not  lacking  in  fervour  : 

Bear  we  the  Black  MarCs  burden  I 

The  stealing  oj  our  lands ^ 

Driven  backwards,  always  backwards, 

E^  en  from  our  desert  sands  ; 

Tou  bring  us  your  own  -poison. 

Fire  liquor  that  you  sell. 

While  your  Missions  and  your  Bibles 

threaten  your  White  Man's  hell. 

Still  more  emphatic  is  the  fourth  stanza,  which  ends 
with  the  couplet : 

Tou  cheat  us  for  your  profit, 
Tou  damn  us  for  your  gain. 

A  certain  section  of  the  people  have  been  inclined  to 
sneer  at  Kipling  as  the  poet  of  the  music-hall.  One 
might  as  well  declare  that  Mozart  was  a  composer  for 
the  barrel-organ.     But  true  genius  cannot  be  vulgarized. 

"  Our  Viceroy  Resigns  "  *  in  "  Departmental  Ditties  " 
seems  to  have  been  written  under  the  immediate  and 
insistent  influence  of  Browning.  Kipling  employs  the 
Browning  metres,  the  Browning  involutions,  and  the 
Browning  abruptnesses.  This  poem  contains  a  clever 
cameo  portrait  of  Lord  Roberts  which  is  said  to  have 
vexed  the  great  soldier. 

•  Lord  Lansdowne  took  the  place  of  Lord  Dufferin  as  Viceroy  of  India 
in  1888.  Lady  Dufferin,  in  "Our  Viceregal  Life  in  India,"  says  that  on 
the  Sunday  after  the  arrival  of  the  new  Viceroy  "  D.  shut  himself  up  with 
Lord  Lansdowne  and  talked  to  him  four  hours  without  stopping."  Lord 
Dufferin  was  made  Ambassador  at  Rome  after  he  returned  from  India  ; 
hence  the  line  "  I  go  back  to  Rome  and  leisure."  It  was  his  boast  that 
during  his  tenure  of  office  he  had  annexed  a  "  country  twice  the  size  of 
France  "  (Burma)  and  thus  checked  the  encroachment  of  the  Russians. 
"  A  grim  lay  reader  with  a  taste  for  coins,  and  faith  in  sin  most  men  with- 
hold from  God,"  of  course,  refers  to  Sir  T.  C.  Hope.  It  is  interesting  now 
to  observe  how  accurately  Kipling  foresaw  that  the  then  Sir  Frederick 
Roberts  would  win  his  way  to  the  Lords  by  way  of  "  Frontier  Roads." 

223 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

I  think  it  must  be  granted  that  the  "  Barrack  Room 
Ballads  "  are  an  honest  and  singularly  successful  attempt 
to  explain  Tommy  Atkins,  as  Kipling  tells  us,  both"  for 
our  pleasure  and  our  pain."  Critics  from  time  to  time 
have  attacked  Kipling  very  bitterly  for  his  descriptions 
of  the  Tommy  ;  they  have  quibbled  and  v^rangled  over 
the  Kiplingesque  coarseness  of  the  slang  and  held  up 
their  hands  in  shocked  amazement  because  the  poet 
dares  to  give  some  barrack-room  reflections  about  v^omen. 
It  is  true  that  the  soldier,  v^ho  like  Jack  has  a  girl  in  every 
port,  is  not  strong  on  monogamy.  In  "  The  Ladies  " 
he  says,  "  I've  'ad  my  picking  o'  sweet'earts  and  four 
o'  the  lot  was  prime,"  and  the  epitome  of  the  poem  is 
given  in  the  line,  "  the  more  you  have  knov^n  the  others, 
the  less  will  you  settle  to  one." 

In  "  Mary,  Pity  Women  !  "  Kipling  has  attempted  to 
show  something  of  the  misery  and  burning  shame  felt 
by  the  soldier's  abandoned  mistress.  But  it  is  to  be 
regretted  that  Kipling  should  hint  that  it  is  quite  in 
order  that  the  women  should  suffer  and  the  men  go 
free.  Lord  Kitchener's  parting  message  to  the  Ex- 
peditionary Force  struck  the  right  corrective  note  in 
this  respect.  Even  the  pity  for  the  unfortunate  is 
grudged,  and  Kipling  seems  to  try  and  cover  up  the 
tracks  of  the  transgressor  with  world-weary  cynicism : 
"  What's  the  good,"  "  What's  the  use,"  &c. 

Whafs  the  good  o'  pleadirC  when  the  mother  that  bore  you, 
[Mary,  fity  women  /)  knew  it  all  before  you. 

mm*** 

What's  the  good  o'  frayin'  for  ^he  Wrath  to  strike  Hm 
(Mary,  pity  women  I)  when  the  rest  are  like  ^im. 

There  you  have  in  Kipling's  own  words  Kipling's  own 
idea  of  men.  We  sincerely  hope  that  the  "  rest  "  are 
not  at  all  like  the  ruffian  in  "  Mary,  Pity  Women  !  " 
Let  us  stamp  out  such  barbarous  conceptions.  "  Stamp 
it  out  !  "  Justice  cries  it.  Art  echoes  it.  The  qualities 
224 


POETRY 

of  a  mother  are  the  heritage  of  her  sons.  To  have  a 
strong  and  truthful  race  of  men  who  are  afraid  of  no 
man,  and  of  whom  no  woman  need  be  afraid,  we  must 
evolve  a  race  of  mothers  who  are  not  burdened  by  those 
who  "  shove  "  all  they  solemnly  promise  behind  them. 
The  good  pride  and  sporting  spirit  of  the  true  Tommy, 
it  is  certain,  will  urge  him  to  make  it  a  point  of  honour 
to  reject  any  idea  that  the  weaker  vessel  must  be  always 
thrust  to  the  wall.  As  to  Tommy's  language.  It  is 
rather  free,  often  very  profane,  and  I  am  certain  quite  a 
meaningless  practice  in  the  barrack-room.  But  swearing 
is,  as  the  good  Bishop  Lightfoot  once  remarked,  with 
some  men  a  mere  matter  from  the  lips  outward. 

Kipling  hides  nothing,  glosses  nothing.  He  sounds 
a  deep  note  of  the  horror  of  war  in  the  ballad  addressed 
to  the  young  British  soldier.  When  you  are  wounded 
and  left  to  die  on  the  open  plains  of  Afghanistan,  and 
women  prowl  about  to  "  cut  up  "  what  remains : 

Jest  roll  to  your  rifle  and  blow  out  your  brains^ 
Alt'  go  to  your  Gawd  like  a  soldier, 
So-oldier  of  the  Queen  I 

Violation  of  the  truth  in  the  barrack-room  is  regarded 
as  rather  an  accomplishment,  and  at  the  risk  of  incurring 
the  wrath  of  the  whole  British  cavalry^ — God  bless  'em  ! — 
I  will  state  that  the  ancient  expression  ''  To  lie  like  a 
trooper  "  is  not  without  justification.  I  recall  a  certain 
trooper  at  Aldershot  who  was  accused  of  being  rather 
fond  of  straining  the  truth  defending  himself  as  follows ; 

Gentlemen,  you  call  me  a  liar.  What  is  a  liar  ?  One  who  tells  the  truth 
about  something  that  never  happened  ;  hence  a  soldier,  a  poet  or  Arctic 
explorer.  A  liar  is  simply  a  man  who  reasons  far  ahead  of  his  time  ;  a  seer. 
As  all  combinations  of  facts  must  occur  in  endless  time,  the  liar,  no  matter 
how  absurd  his  statement,  is  uttering  a  truth,  because  he  is  stating  a  fact 
that  has  occurred  or  will  occur  at  some  future  date.  Thus  when  you 
condemn  "me  as  a  man  who  utters  a  falsehood,  strictly  speaking,  you  are 
wrong.  As  the  oyster  is  merely  pearl  in  the  process  of  evolving,  so  a  liar  is 
an  observer  born  out  of  his  time.    I  am  merely  a  victim  of  a  divine  prank. 

?  225 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

In  one  of  the  worst  of  Kipling's  poems,  that  entitled 
"  Kitchener's  School  "  we  learn  that  "  Allah  created 
the  English  mad — the  maddest  of  all  mad  things,"  but 
all  the  same  the  "  English  obey  the  Judge  and  say  that 
the  law  is  good."  That  is  Kipling  all  over,  especially 
in  regard  to  keeping  the  law.  "  The  head  and  the  hoof 
and  the  haunch  and  the  hump  of  the  law  is — Obey  !  " 
This  is  the  note  of  the  drill-sergeant  which  breathes  in 
every  line  of  his  verse  and  prose.  Sergeant  What'sname 
who  drilled  a  black  man  white,  and  taught  a  mummy 
how  to  handle  a  rifle,  is  ever  the  right-hand  man  in 
Kipling's  temple  of  fame.  It  is  the  same  note  which 
McAndrew's  engines  droned  and  chanted : 

Law,  Order,  Duty  an'  Restraint,  Obedience,  Discipline. 

In  "  Soldiers  Three  "  he  has  done  his  best  to  revive 
the  dying  faith  in  blind  barrack-room  submission  to 
authority,  and  we  at  once  feel  that  these  soldiers  are 
merely  "  puppet-like  puppets,"  They  are  merely  three 
of  the  most  perfect  products  of  a  sound  drill  book 
training.  They  can  hardly  be  described  as  elaborate 
portraits  because  they  all  come  from  the  same  mould. 
It  is  true  that  Kipling  has  expressed  in  his  early  poetry 
and  prose  a  human  type,  a  type  that  is  known  wherever 
the  British  soldier  is  known.  But  the  soldier  of  to-day 
has  left  our  friends  of  "  Barrack- Room  Ballads  "  far  back 
in  the  distance.  The  men  in  the  trenches  of  France 
are  more  thoughtful  than  the  rough-and-ready,  domin- 
eering, but  far  from  ignoble  type  Kipling  found  in  India 
at  the  end  of  the  last  century.  This  sturdy  but  awkward 
warrior  furnished  Kipling  with  an  ideal,  and  he  produced 
from  it  the  utmost  emotional  value  which  a  common- 
place ideal  can  give. 

But  Mulvaney,  Ortheris,  and  Learoyd  have  all  had  their 
day,  and  the  almost  ever-present  coarseness  which  the 
author  mistook  for  vigour  needed  a  check.  All  great 
writers  have  a  natural  delight  in  coarseness,  but  in 
226 


POETRY 

"  Soldiers  Three  "  Kipling  gave  us  just  a  little  too  much 
of  it.  I  cannot  find  a  single  private  soldier  in  Kipling's 
writings  who  is  not  illiterate.  This  is  a  mistake.  There 
were  to  be  sure  thousands  of  Tommies  in  1885  who 
mishandled  their  Queen's  English,  but  there  were  many 
who  could  write  well  and  think  well  too.  Thomas 
Hardy,  David  Christie  Murray,  Archibald  Forbes,  have 
all  been  common  or  garden  Tommies  in  their  time.  So 
"  Soldiers  Three  "  only  gives  us  a  certain  type  of  soldier, 
doubtless  a  faithful  portrait  of  that  type,  but  he  has  not 
attempted  an  accurate  description  of  the  various  men 
in  the  average  regiment. 

Kipling's  Deity  is  the  terrible  and  real  "  Jehovah 
of  the  Thunders,"  who  can  sympathize  with  men  who 
can  put  up  a  good  fight,  or  sing  a  roistering  barrack  song. 
There  is  perhaps  a  suggestion  of  arrogance  in  his  writings  ; 
an  idea  that  we  are  the  Lord's  chosen  people  and  that 
He  has  "  smote  for  us  a  pathway  to  the  ends  of  all  the 
Earth."  Observe  the  veiled  arrogance  in  certain  lines 
of  "  Recessional,"  in  which  he  hints  that  our  battleline 
is  no  small  affair  but  a  *'  far-flung  "  array,  which  is  quali- 
fied to  control  the  destiny  of  half  the  universe.  Mark, 
too,  his  naive  admiration  for  the  greatness  of  Empire 
in  one  of  his  happiest  lines  in  which  he  speaks  of  ''  Do- 
minion over  palm  and  pine."  The  last  three  words 
carry  the  reader's  mind  in  instantaneous  sweep  across 
our  territories  from  Canada  to  Ceylon. 

Now  and  again  Kipling  sounds  a  whimsical  note. 
He  has  unfolded  in  a  most  startling  fashion  the  wondering 
amazement  of  the  Hindoo  brought  face  to  face  with  the 
Western  religion  and  ''  The  Man  of  Sorrows  "  : 

.  .  .  What  Gods  are  these 
Tou  bid  me  'please  ? 

The  Three  in  One,  the  One  in  Three  P    Not  so  ! 
To  my  own  gods  I  go. 
It  may  he  they  shall  give  me  greater  ease 
Than  your  cold  Christ  and  tangled  Trinities. 

227 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

"Pagett,  M.P.''  in  "Departmental  Ditties"  is  one  of 
the  most  successful  Anglo-Indian  poems.  It  has  been 
mentioned  in  a  quarter  that  should  be  well  informed, 
that  the  late  Mr.  W.  S.  Caine,  M.D.,  was  the  original 
of  Kipling's  character.  Mr.  Caine  was,  however,  only 
one  of  a  number  of  M.P.s  who  ''  did  "  India  and  wrote 
books  about  their  travels,  and  certainly  his  book  on  India 
was  far  from  being  the  worst  of  its  kind.  The  thing 
that  seems  to  annoy  the  Anglo-Indian,  is  that  a  man  who 
is  merely  a  tourist  should  dare  to  pose  as  an  authority 
on  subjects  any  one  of  which  might  well  occupy  a  lifetime 
and  leave  the  learner  diffident  at  the  end.  The  behaviour 
of  the  native-born  American,  who  spends  a  few  weeks 
in  England  with  a  guide-book,  and  then  goes  home  to 
write  a  book  on  London  life,  is  excusable  beside  that  of 
the  "  travelled  idiots  "  who  profess  to  have  mastered  in  a 
four  months  visit  all  the  religious  and  political  problems 
presented  by  India. 

Anglo-Indians  have  ever  been  known  to  inveigh  against 
Kipling  for  immaturity  of  judgment  ;  the  Englishman 
of  Calcutta  attacked  the  story  "  An  Unqualified  Pilot  "  * 
when  it  appeared,  remarking  that  the  author  had  very 
evidently  primed  himself  by  reading  the  article  on  the 
Hugli  in  Hunter^ s  Gazetteer, 

*  This  story  has  not  been  included  in  any  English  edition  of  the  author's 
worlds.     It  was  printed  in  the  Windsor  Magazine,  February  1895. 


^28 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SUSSEX 

A  gift  of  literary  humanity  :  Imitation  "  style  "  :  "  The  Con- 
version of  St.  Wilfrid  "  :  Pen-pictures  of  the  Downs  :  Kipling's 
house  near  Burwash  :  The  "  gentlemen "  :  A  worthy  Sussex 
parson  :  The  bell-ringers  of  Burwash  :  G.  K.  Chesterton's  taunt 
against  Kipling  :  Kipling  an  infatuated  admirer  of  rural  England  : 
An  habitation  enforced. 


^ 


I 


O/),  bury  me  not  in  a  churchyard,  mound. 
But  lay  me  in  my  garden  ground  ; 

From  loving  dust,  it  needs  must  be 
That  flowers  will  spring  more  fair  to  see. 

And  Christ  will  know,  in  my  last  sleep, 
For  Him  I  still  the  garden  keep. 

Gretchen  Warren. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SUSSEX 

RuDYARD  Kipling  has  a  gift  of  literary  humanity,  a 
geniality  of  nature,  a  talent  for  companionship,  a  reassur- 
ing point  of  view,  a  charm  of  wise  and  witty  and  tender 
utterance,  and  a  generally  broad-shouldered,  warm,  and 
deep-hearted  way  with  him  which  is  an  oasis  in  the  great 
waste  of  present-day  smartness  and  cynicism.  In  "  Puck 
of  Pook's  Hill,"  and  "  Rewards  and  Fairies,"  he  has 
picked  out  time-weathered  men  of  action  for  the  beef 
and  brawn  of  his  literary  pabulum  ;  Napoleon,  St. 
Wilfrid,  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley  (afterwards  Duke  of 
Wellington),  Queen  Elizabeth,  Nicholas  Culpeper, 
Drake,  these  and  suchlike  are  the  people  for  him.  It  is 
in  their  company  that  he  prefers  to  seek  his  adventures, 
as  it  is  in  the  homelier,  broadcast  aspects  and  happenings 
of  life  that  he  finds  his  satisfactions  and  the  eternal 
meanings.  To  the  recording  of  these  various  adventures, 
which  may  well  be  styled  a  true  epic  of  the  English 
people,  Kipling  brings  a  style  of  uncommon  naturalness 
and  personal  charm.  He  does  not,  thank  Heaven,  write 
English  as  if  it  were  a  dead  language,  nor,  on  the  other 
hand,  does  he  write  it  like  an  advertising  man.  To  write 
like  a  human  being  !  If  you  look  around  the  realms  of 
the  present-day  republic  of  letters  you  will  be  surprised 
to  see  how  little  writing  is  being  done  in  that  way. 
Everywhere  the  imitation  "  style,"  the  pose  point  of 
view,  the  smart,  cynical,  sophisticated  attitude.  In  an 
age  of  would-be  literary  dandies  and  superior  persons 
one    is    fathomlessly   grateful    for    Kipling's    occasional 

231 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

tavern  or  coffee-house  manner,  his  Rabelaisian  tang,  and 
his  frank  way  of  telling  us  everything. 

We  are  glad  to  find  that  the  gentle-hearted  and  simple 
Eddi,  who  preached  the  word  to  a  yoke-weary  bullock 
and  a  marsh  donkey,  holds  an  honoured  position  in 
Kipling's  affections,  and  to  turn  the  pages  of  "  The 
Conversion  of  St.  Wilfrid  "  is  to  breathe  the  air  of  a 
more  spacious  and  friendly  world.  It  is  as  though  we 
had  dropped  into  the  Church  of  Little  Barnabas,*  to 
have  a  friendly  chat  with  the  good  Wilfrid.  In  one 
place,  Kipling  humorously  describes  how  Puck  wickedly 
persuaded  Wilfrid  to  narrate  the  story  of  his  fight  with 
the  Saxons  on  the  Sussex  coast — a  story  which  the  man 
of  peace  had  endeavoured  to  put  behind  him.  But 
when  the  fire  of  his  youth  revived  for  a  few  moments  a 
sudden  thick  burr  came  into  the  old  man's  voice :  "  I 
was  bringing  over  a  few  things  for  my  old  church  at 
York,  and  some  of  the  natives  laid  hands  on  them,  and 
— and  I'm  afraid  I  lost  my  temper.  .  .  .  Eh,  but  I  must 
ha'  been  a  silly  lad."  In  such  human  touches  these 
stories  abound,  and  they  make  no  little  of  Kipling's 
charm. 

"  The  Conversion  of  St.  Wilfrid  "  is  a  sketch  of  a 
well-known  phase  in  the  life  of  the  Archbishop  Wilfrid. 
In  the  seventh  century  the  kingdom  of  the  South  Saxons 
was  to  a  great  extent  cut  off  from  neighbouring  English 
kingdoms  by  the  tract  of  marshy  land  at  the  east  and 
west,  and  even  the  north,  by  the  forest  of  the  Weald. 
The  sloping  beaches  of  the  coast  also  attracted  sea 
adventurers,  who  harassed  and  plundered  their  people, 
so  it  was  natural  that  Paganism  should  have  been  retained 
longer  in  Sussex  than  in  other  kingdoms.  These  people, 
in  whose  veins  flowed  the  restless  blood  of  the  Vikings, 

*  At  the  Etchingham  end  of  the  village  of  Burwash   stands  a  church 
dedicated  to  another  saint,  but  the  reader  will  have  no  difficulty  in  con- 
necting it  with  the  church  so  often  referred  to  as  St.  Barnabas  by  Rudyard 
Kipling. 
232 


SUSSEX 

looked  upon  any  unlucky  ship  driven  ashore  on  their 
coast  as  theirs  by  right,  and  when  Wilfrid's  ship  was 
driven  ashore  while  he  was  sailing  home  from  France, 
the  South  Saxons  swooped  down  to  loot  any  gear  that 
might  be  cast  up  by  the  sea.  One  of  the  Saxons  skilled 
in  magic  began  to  practise  his  black-art  on  Wilfrid  and 
his  ship  with  a  view  to  hasten  their  destruction,  but  a 
well-flung  stone  from  one  of  the  Archbishop's  crew 
killed  him.  Maddened  by  the  sight  of  their  leader's 
death,  they  plunged  into  the  surf  and  engaged  Wilfrid's 
men,  who  gradually  retreated  to  the  ship.  The  tide 
rising  before  its  accustomed  time  floated  the  ship,  and 
thus  enabled  Wilfrid  and  his  retainers  to  make  off.  It 
was  twenty  years  later  that  Wilfrid  returned  to  the 
South  Saxons  as  a  missionary  during  a  period  of  famine. 
Rain  had  not  fallen  for  three  years,  but  Wilfrid  taught 
the  people  to  fish  with  an  angle-hook  and  thus  relieve 
much  distress.  In  return  for  this  many  of  the  people 
offered  to  keep  faith  with  the  Christian  God.  During 
the  day  on  which  the  Saxons  were  baptized  into  the 
Church  the  rain  fell  in  a  deluge,  and  the  great  famine 
came  to  an  end.  It  is  said  that  St.  Wilfrid  founded  a 
monastery  at  Selsey,  on. a  part  of  the  land  now  claimed 
by  the  sea.  Kipling  tells  us  how  Wilfrid  made  friends 
with  a  pagan  chief,  Meon,  in  these  parts,  and  introduces 
Eddius,  the  Kentish  choirmaster  (and  later,  biographer) 
of  Wilfrid,  to  say  nothing  of  an  old  seal  of  high  intelli- 
gence. Eddi  abhorred  Padda  (the  seal),  but  was  con- 
verted to  a  great  respect  after  the  animal  had  rescued 
Meon,  Wilfrid,  and  himself  from  the  sea.  Wilfrid  tells 
quaintly  in  one  part  of  the  story  how  Eddi  made  a  little 
cross  in  holy  water  on  the  wet  muzzle  of  the  seal,  and 
was  rewarded  by  the  caresses  of  the  faithful  Padda — 
another  little  human  touch  that  endears  the  old  Kentish 
chaplain  to  us  all. 

Wilfrid  taught  Meon  much,  and  in  turn  the  Arch- 
bishop  learnt    from     the     pagan    chief    to     face    the 

233 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

world  in  a  broad-shouldered,  warm,  and  deep-hearted 
way. 

The  wonderful  charm  of  Sussex  colours  much  of 
Kipling's  later  work.  There  are  wonderful  pen-pictures 
of  the  Downs  in  "  The  Knife  and  the  Naked  Chalk  " 
("  Rewards  and  Fairies  ")•  In  "  Hal  o'  the  Draft  "  he 
gives  us  a  description  of  the  south-country  foundries, 
where  all  the  guns  used  in  the  Tudor  navy  were  forged, 
and  in  Puck's  Song  he  sings  the  history  of  Sussex.  The 
scenes  of  "They,"  "Below  the  Mill  Dam,"  "An 
Habitation  Enforced,"  and  many  of  the  stories  in 
"  Rewards  and  Fairies  "  and  "  Puck  of  Pook's  Hill  "  are 
also  laid  in  this  county. 

Kipling  has  also  made  Sussex  his  very  own  in  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  poems  written  on  an  English  county, 
and  his  verses  in  "  The  Five  Nations  "  are  proof  enough 
of  his  ardent  affection  for  this  part  of  England. 

Kipling's  house  is  called  "  Batemans,"  and  it  has 
stood  some  hundreds  of  years  in  a  little  hollow  near  the 
village  of  Burwash,  mid  a  thinly  settled  and  wooded 
district.  Over  the  doorway  a  date  stone  proclaims  that 
the  building  was  raised  in  the  year  1634. 

When  visitors  call  upon  him  at  this  delightful  old 
house  in  the  heart  of  Sussex,  they  are  always  taken  to  see 
his  "  Free  Trade  Garden."  None  but  the  keenest 
Tariff  Reformer  would  appreciate  the  name  at  first 
sight.  On  looking  round,  however,  one  sees  that  the 
old  style  garden  paths  are  all  paved  with  disused  mill 
stones,  relics  of  those  golden  days  when  the  miller  ground 
the  corn  and  wheat-growing  was  one  of  the  staple  in- 
dustries of  the  country. 

You  will  learn  in  the  "  Smuggler's  Song  "  all  about 
the  gentlemen  who  must  have  often  passed  "  Batemans  " 
in  their  trapesings  with  good  liquor  between  the  coast 
and  the  capital.  In  those  days  every  one  sided  with  the 
smugglers,  both  on  the  coast  and  inland  ;  and  it  is  said 
that   a  certain  worthy  parson  being  somewhat  uneasy 

234 


I 


SUSSEX 

about  his  right  to  retain  a  cask  of  brandy  which  with 
many  others  had  been  hidden  in  his  own  church  tower, 
was  somewhat  consoled  by  one  of  the  gentlemen,  who 
pinned  the  following  text  to  it : 

Men  do  not  despise  a  thief,  if  he  steal  to  satisfy  his  soul  when  he  is  hungry. 

Proverbs  vi.  30. 

A  Burwash  woman  has  told  us  that  as  a  child,  after 
saying  her  prayers,  she  was  often  packed  to  bed  early 
with  the  strict  injunction :  "  Now  mind  if  the  gentle- 
men come  along,  don't  you  look  out  of  the  window." 
To  look  at  a  smuggler  when  he  was  engaged  in  the  great 
game,  was  strictly  against  true  Sussex  tradition.  People 
had  to  turn  towards  the  wall  when  they  passed  by,  so 
that  they  could  truthfully  declare  that,  as  they  had  not 
seen  the  gentlemen,  it  was  impossible  to  identify  them. 
Another  native  of  Burwash  has  recorded  that  his  grand- 
father's family,  which  consisted  of  fourteen  sons,  were 
all  "  brought  up  to  be  smugglers."  The  late  Mr. 
Cocker  Egerton  of  Burwash  also  related  a  good  story  of 
a  Sussex  parson  who  feigned  illness  all  one  Sunday  in 
order  to  keep  his  church  closed  on  a  cargo  of  contraband 
which  had  been  hurriedly  lodged  in  the  pews  to  evade 
the  revenue  men. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  true  crest  of  the  Sussex  Men 
is  a  pig  couchant,  with  the  motto  "  I  wunt  be  druv," 
and  we  have  all  heard  of  the  following  couplet : 

Tou  may  push  and  you  may  shuv 
But  Pm if  ril  he  druv. 

Mr.  E.  V.  Lucas,  in  his  book  on  Sussex,  has  told  us 
how  the  bellringers  of  Burwash  refused  to  ring  the  bells 
when  George  IV,  then  Prince  of  Wales,  passed  through 
that  village  on  his  return  from  a  visit  to  Sir  John  Lade 
at  Etchingham.  The  independent  and  stubborn  inhabi- 
tants, when  asked  for  a  reason,  declared  that  the  bells 
had  clashed  most  riotously  when  the  First  Gentleman  in 

23s 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Europe  had  passed  that  way  before,  and  not  even  a 
little  ale  had  been  served  out  to  them,  and  that  they 
did  not  mean  to  toil  again  for  nothing. 

In  his  book  "  Heretics,"  G.  K.  Chesterton  levelled  a 
taunt  against  Kipling,  to  the  effect  that  he  only  wor- 
shipped England  because  she  was  powerful,  not  because 
she  was  English.  This  reproach  is  unfair  and  misleading. 
It  makes  Kipling  simply  an  admirer  of  power  like 
Nietzsche,  instead  of  a  worshipper  of  that  very  different 
thing,  power  wielded  after  the  manner  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  people.  It  is  misleading  to  say  that  Kipling  feels 
nothing  and  knows  nothing  of  our  Empire  beyond  its 
strength  in  guns  and  bayonets.  It  is  true  that  there  is 
a  general  lack  of  emotion  and  a  rather  imperious  call  to 
stern  business  principles  in  his  work,  but  I  think  that  his 
aim  is  to  do  the  right  thing  apart  from  gain  or  supremacy. 
However  mistaken,  however  much  he  has  "  been  led  by 
evil  counsellors,"  there  is  still  the  same  restless  and 
strenuous  striving  after  good.  It  is  curious  to  note  how 
Mr.  Chesterton  tries  to  drum  into  our  heads  that  Kipling 
is  only  attracted  to  write  about  the  army  because  it  is 
a  marvellous  organization,  and  that  Private  Ortheris  is 
no  more  beloved  to  him  than  a  private  of  the  German 
army.  We  can  only  excuse  Mr.  Chesterton  on  the 
ground  that  his  remarks  were  written  some  years  ago. 
Of  course  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Kipling's  soldier 
stories  have  been  a  labour  of  love.  Mere  books  have 
not  circumscribed  his  activities  on  behalf  of  Tommy 
Atkins.  The  South  African  War  discovered  him  not 
only  in  the  firing-line  with  his  friends,  but  visiting  them 
in  the  reeking  enteric  camps  at  Bloemfontein,  or  writing 
letters  home  for  wounded  soldiers.  Chesterton,  there- 
fore, is  not  justified  in  gravely  rebuking  him  with  the 
following  words :  "  That  which  he  admires  in  the  Brit- 
ish army  he  would  find  more  apparent  in  the  German 
army  ...  he  admires  England,  but  he  does  not  love 
her."  The  campaign  in  France  and  Belgium  has  done 
236 


SUSSEX 

much  to  disprove  Mr.  Chesterton's  statement — that 
there  is  little  to  choose  between  the  British  Tommy  and 
any  other  soldier.  We  are  too  near  to  German  bar- 
barism to  talk  lightly  of  any  such  comparison. 

It  must  no  longer  be  possible  to  say  that  "  the  literary 
geography  of  Kipling  would  be  everywhere  save  where 
the  distinguished  writer's  forbears  dwelt,"  as  William 
Sharp  has  remarked,  or  that  ''  he  lacks  altogether  the 
faculty  of  attaching  himself  to  any  cause  or  community 
finally  and  tragically,"  as  Mr.  Chesterton  has  informed 
us.  Both  of  these  remarks  are  singularly  inaccurate. 
We  now  know  that  the  author  has  finally  and  irrevocably 
attached  himself  to  a  certain  part  of  England.  No  ! 
Kipling  may  have  once  been  called  ''  The  Man  from 
Nowhere,"  but  he  cannot  be  regarded  as  the  Man 
without  a  Country,  for  the  lot  has  fallen  to  him  in 
"  a  fair  ground — Yea,  Sussex  by  the  Sea."  Kipling's 
worship  of  England  is  of  a  distinctly  ritualistic  type,  and 
dispels  at  once  Mr.  Chesterton's  conflicting  remarks  that 
he  is  "  naturally  a  cosmopolitan,"  and  that  he  displays 
a  lack  of  patriotism.  Such  verse  as  the  author  has  given 
in  his  beautiful  tribute  to  Sussex  in  "  The  Five  Nations  " 
is  more  than  love  for  England,  it  rises  to  passion.  The 
verses  are  wreathed  with  Sussex  incense  and  starred  with 
Sussex  tapers.  There  is  a  little-known  letter  written  by 
Kipling  to  a  motoring  friend,  which  shows  the  author 
to  be  an  infatuated  admirer  of  rural  England  : 

To  me  it  is  a  land  of  stupefying  marvels  and  mysteries ;  and  a  day  in 
the  car  in  an  English  county  is  a  day  in  some  fairy  museum  where  all  the 
exhibits  are  alive  and  real  and  yet  none  the  less  delightfully  mixed  up 
with  books.  For  instance,  in  six  hours  I  can  go  from  the  land  of  the 
*'  Ingoldsby  Legends  "  by  way  of  the  Norman  Conquest  and  the  Baron's 
War  into  Richard  Jefferies'  country,  and  so  through  the  Regency,  one  of 
Arthur  Young's  less  known  tours,  and  "  Celia's  Arbour,"  into  Gilbert 
White's  territory.  On  a  morning  I  have  seen  the  Assizes,  javelin-men  and 
all,  come  into  a  cathedral  town  ;  by  noon  I  was  skirting  a  new-built  convent 
for  expelled  French  nuns ;  before  sundown  I  was  watching  the  Channel 
Fleet  off  Selsea  Bill,  and  after  dark  I  nearly  broke  a  fox's  back  on  a  Roman 

237 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

road.  You  who  were  born  and  bred  in  the  land  naturally  take  such  trifles 
for  granted,  but  to  me  it  is  still  miraculous  that  if  I  want  petrol  in  a  hurry 
I  must  either  pass  the  place  where  Sir  John  Lade  lived  or  the  garden  where 
Jack  Cade  was  killed.  In  Africa  one  has  only  to  put  the  miles  under  and 
go  on  ;  but  in  England  the  dead,  twelve  coffin  deep,  clutch  hold  of  my 
wheels  at  every  turn,  till  I  sometimes  wonder  that  the  very  road  does  not 
bleed.  That'll  the  real  joy  of  motoring — the  exploration  of  my  amazing 
England. 

Yes,  I  still  think  that  England  holds  a  very  foremost 
position  in  Kipling's  affections.  The  little  details  in 
country  life  and  in  nature  attract  Kipling  surprisingly, 
and  we  find  in  his  "  An  Habitation  Enforced "  how 
George  Chapin,  American  multi-millionaire,  feels  the 
call  of  the  Old  Country. 

Chapin,  an  overworked  and  broken-down  American, 
and  his  wife  Sophie  are  the  principal  characters.  The 
doctors  have  just  informed  him  that  his  nervous  complaint 
will  end  in  a  speedy  death  unless  he  stops  work  at  once. 
At  the  moment  when  he  is  stricken  down  with  this 
malady  of  the  soul,  his  career  had  just  reached  the 
culminating  moment  when  he  was  going  to  break  up 
all  opposition,  and  rule  the  greater  part  of  America  with 
the  iron  hand.  Thus,  by  the  interception  of  the  divine 
janitor,  he  is  cheated  of  his  plunder.  The  doctors' 
command  must  be  obeyed,  and  Chapin  and  his  wife  set 
out  for  Europe.  They  can  find  no  rest  for  their  souls 
on  the  Continent  ;  not  even  the  enchanted  gardens  of 
Italy  can  hold  them,  and  the  millionaire  still  yearns  for 
the  traffic  and  barter  of  the  market-place.  They  see 
everything  that  is  to  be  seen  ;  they  go  everywhere  at 
the  bidding  of  guide-books  and  fellow-travellers  ;  only 
at  last  in  England,  in  a  village  in  the  southern  counties, 
do  they  attain  that  peace  of  the  soul  which  all  along  they 
have  been  seeking.  So  the  millionaire,  who  has  been 
accustomed  to  the  boldest  operations  on  money  markets 
of  the  world,  is  bewitched  by  the  Old  Country.  He 
becomes  a  simple  English  country  gentleman,  loving  the 
238 


SUSSEX 

slow  and  quaint  workings  of  the  village  mind.  And  here, 
in  the  quiet  old  world,  all  the  good  things  of  life  which 
the  bustling  new  world  denied  them,  came  to  their  aid 
— ^health,  rest,  and  parentage.  "  They  have  returned  as 
strangers :  they  shall  remain  as  sons."  Indeed,  the  old 
house  which  they  have  purchased  has  an  eternal  allure- 
ment, for  it  seems  that,  led  by  a  star  of  accident,  they 
had  found  the  very  estate  that  was  once  owned  by  their 
forbears.  As  I  have  hinted,  a  son  is  born  to  them,  and 
thus  does  an  old  rustic  lecture  the  sometime  financier 
on  the  distinction  between  the  temporary  and  the 
enduring.  It  is  a  discussion  over  the  building  of  a 
bridge  across  a  brook  in  the  Gale  Anstey  Woods.  Chapin 
is  in  favour  of  the  New  York  slapdash  way  with  a  few 
pine  planks,  but  the  old  farmer  remarks : 

"  You  can  put  up  larch  and  make  a  temp'ry  job  ;  and 
by  the  time  the  young  master's  married,  it'll  have  to  be 
done  again.  Now,  I've  brought  down  a  couple  of  as 
sweet  six-by-eight  oak  timbers  as  we've  ever  drawed. 
You  put  'em  in,  an'  it's  off  your  mind  for  good  an'  all. 
T'other  way  .  .  .  he'll  no  sooner  be  married  .  .  .  'ave 
it  all  to  do  again." 

Mr.  I.  S.  Cobb,  in  the  New  Tork  Evening  Post^  tells 
how  Kipling  takes  a  great  pleasure  in  the  trivial  little 
objects  and  customs  of  rustic  life — those  simple  things 
that  are  best  of  all. 

"  On  a  walk  after  lunch,  Mr.  Cobb  remarked  the 
number  and  the  tameness  of  the  pheasants,  and  the  little 
English  robins. 

"  Ah  !  you  know  birds,"  said  Kipling.  "  I  don't 
know  birds  so  well,  though  I'm  fond  of  them.  I  wish 
you  would  stay  until  after  dinner,"  he  went  on,  "  I'd 
like  you  to  hear  a  nightingale  that  comes  every  evening 
to  our  garden.  I  know  all  the  popular  illusions  about 
the  nightingale  ;  but  the  truth  is,  he's  a  blackguard 
with  a  gift  of  music  in  his  throat  that  he  can't  control — 
a  noisy    swashbuckling  blackguard  of  the  garden.     He 

239 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

comes  here  at  night  and  he  proceeds  to  abuse  all  his 
enemies  for  all  he's  worth.  It's  feathered  profanity  in 
a  disguise  of  harmony,  and  he  gets  so  worked  up  over  it, 
that  he  finally  ends  in  an  inarticulate  gurgle." 

On  a  walk  in  the  garden  they  came  upon  a  mason 
adjusting  a  grape-vine  trellis  in  a  concrete  block  about 
five  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

"  Do  you  see  how  substantially  he's  doing  that  ?  " 
said  Kipling.  "  That  should  be  interesting  to  an 
American,  who  is  used  to  seeing  things  done  in  a  hurry. 
But  here  in  Sussex  they  build  for  the  ages.  Once  I 
asked  a  man  why  he  ploughed  so  deeply,  and  I  asked  this 
mason  why  he  went  as  far  as  five  feet  down  for  his 
concrete  foundation  when  two  feet  or  three  feet  would 
do,  and  they  both  made  the  same  answer — a  phrase  that 
I  have  learned  since  is  commonly  in  use  in  Sussex,  like 
an  adage  or  motto.  *  We  do  it  this  way,'  they  said,  '  for 
the  honour  of  the  land.'  I  thought  that  had  a  fine 
sound — a  deference  to  the  soil  that  nourished  them,  like 
a  son  patting  his  mother's  cheek." 


240 


CHAPTER  XVII 
"STALKY  AND  CO." 

''  Stalky  and  Co."  :  The  literature  of  school  life  :  Books  which 

influenced  Kipling  as  a  hoy  :  Kipling's  old  master,  Cormell  Price  : 

The  Review  of  the  Week  on  "  Stalky." 


T 


/  would  give  much  to  recall  my  feelings  when  I  had  slept  with  one 
eye  open  in  order  to  get  up  at  cock-crow  to  see  the  Circus  pitch  its 
tents  on  Bilhrow'^s  field,  a  space  big  enough  j or  a  Roman  hippodrome. 
But  of  this  I  am  sure,  that  romance  has  never  spread  a  scene  of  such 
enchantment  before  my  eyes.  Oh,  the  heart-stirring  excitement  when 
the  canvasmen — those  extra-blasphemous  navigators  of  the  circensian 
ocean — raised  the  great  centre-pole  of  the  Main  Tent !  It  might  have 
been  done  with  less  noise  and  swearing,  perhaps,  but  would  it  have 
impressed  me  half  so  much  ?  How  cheerful  the  sight  of  them  messing 
in  the  open  air,  while  an  immensely  fat  and  good-natured  black  cook 
roasted  huge  steaks  over  a  cunning  camp  fire  /  How  I  longed  to  get 
away  from  the  tyranny  of  tasks  and  to  be  a  part  of  that  life,  so  free  and 
careless,  yet  full  of  adventure  it  seemed  ;  and  how  I  envied  the  boy 
who,  from  time  to  time,  ran  away  with  the  Circus  !  What  became 
of  that  hero  of  one'^s  early  admiration  seems,  by  the  way,  as  profound  a 
mystery  as  the  ordinary  failure  of  the  head  boy  in  school  to  take  all 
the  prizes  in  after  life.  I  know  for  sure,  at  any  rate,  that  he  never 
got  to  own  the  Circus,  and  I  suspect  he  paid  dearly  for  his  romantic 
yearnings.  But  as  a  boy,  I  would  have  enthusiastically  swapped  any 
future  whatever  for  hi>  chance. 

Michael  Monahan. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

"  STALKY  AND  CO." 

The  Maiden  Aunt  who  is  in  search  of  a  nice  book  for  a 
little  boy  with  a  shining  face,  a  boy  with  irreproachable 
manners  and  tidy  ways,  had  better  not  put  "  Stalky  and 
Co."  on  her  list.  For  the  adventures  of  the  Schoolboys 
Three  are  not  such  as  give  joy  to  the  timid  guardians  of 
youth,  while  the  heroes  themselves  are  young  rapscallions 
of  the  deepest  dye.  It  is  true  that  Stalky,  McTurk,  and 
Beetle  have  made  a  casual  acquaintance  with  some  of 
the  great  masters  of  English  literature,  but  a  slight 
knowledge  of  "  Fors  Clavigera  "  and  "  Men  and  Women  " 
seems  only  to  have  served  as  an  aifected  gloss  to  the 
combined  characteristics  of  the  terrible  trio  whose  deep- 
revolving  councils  swayed  all,  from  the  head  master  to 
the  study-fag,  at  those  "  twelve  bleak  houses  by  the 
shore." 

There  were  many  who  objected  to  the  book,  and 
pointed  out  that  young  Goths  who  smoke,  swear,  shoot 
cats,  chivy  the  fags,  and  jape  with  the  house  masters 
were  not  worthy  to  grace  the  literature  of  school  life. 
The  book  makes  no  claim  to  be  a  minute  study  of  all 
the  various  classes  of  young  male  animals  which  are  to 
be  met  with  in  our  public  schools.  It  is  simply  a  short 
series  of  episodes,  all  of  which  were  crowded  into  the 
last  two  years  of  Kipling's  schooldays  at  that  tough 
seminary  of  practical  Imperialism — a  cross  between  a 
public  school  and  a  convict  settlement,  from  which 
nothing  soft  emerged.  Some  finicky  persons  would, 
indeed,  hold  "  Stalky  and  Co."  to  be  a   "  gross  and 

243 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

absolute  travesty  of  facts,"  but  the  truth  is  these  boys 
are  quite  true  to  life,  and  I  have  been  told  that  some  of 
the  amazing  practical  jokes  which  Uncle  Stalky  and  his 
retainers  carried  out  were  too  wicked  for  type,  and.iwere 
for  this  reason  kept  out  of  the  book.  The  college, 
indeed,  seems  to  have  been  organized  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  Stalky  and  Co.  the  utmost  room  and  merge  for 
their  pranks.  There  is  no  limit  to  their  impudence, 
just  as  there  seems  to  be  no  boundary  to  their  slang. 
The  order  and  good  government  of  the  college  they 
reduce  to  chaos,  to  the  masters  they  bring  headache  and 
heartbreak. 

It  is  natural  for  us  to  look  back  on  the  school  stories  of 
the  past  with  a  certain  tenderness  and  regretful  admira- 
tion. A  golden  haze  envelops  those  departed  books  of 
our  youth,  and  even  through  the  sickly  sentiment  of 
"  Eric,"  upon  which  Kipling  has  bestowed  much  ridicule, 
many  happy  reminiscences  of  childhood  brightly  gleam. 
Nevertheless,  after  reading  "  Tom  Brown's  Schooldavs," 
"The  Human  Boy,"  "The  Hill,"  and  all  the  other 
literature  of  school  life,  we  are  bound  to  confess  that 
there  was  room  for  "  Stalky  and  Co."  It  must  be  evident 
at  once  that  some,  at  least,  of  the  success  of  the  "  Stalky  " 
group  of  studies  is  due  to  Kipling's  brilliancy  of  insight 
into  the  barbaric  and  abnormal  state  of  mind.  It  is  the 
uncivilized  type  of  boy,  so  to  speak,  that  he  handles  best. 
The  boys  at  Westward  Ho  were  "  quite  exceptional 
boys,"  was  the  verdict  of  one  critic.  It  may  be  noted, 
too,  that  the  school  was  entirely  different  to  all  other 
institutions  of  that  kind  on  account  of  the  apparent  lack 
of  discipline.  In  any  other  school  the  power  of  Kipling's 
trio  would  have  been  swiftly  and  painfully  crushed. 

For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  school  story 
has  a  writer  ventured  to  make  his  hero  sneer  at  cricket 
and  football,  and  yet  we  all  know  that  fifty  per  cent,  of 
any  school  hold  the  same  views  on  the  national  sport  as 
McTurk.  My  own  experience  at  a  county  grammar 
244 


"STALKY   AND   CO." 

school  and  a  public  school  prompts  me  to  make  this 
statement.  Kipling  knows  this,  and  he  knows,  too,  why 
many  boys  profess  an  enthusiasm  for  cricket  which  is  far 

from  their  hearts.     McTurk's  explanation  of  their  un- 

J. 

popularity  with  some  of  the  masters  throws  much  light 
on  one  side  of  the  question :  "  If  we  attended  the 
matches  and  yelled  '  well  hit,  sir,'  an'  stood  on  one  leg 
an'  grinned  every  time  Heify  said,  '  So  ho,  my  sons,  is 
it  thus  ?  '  and  said,  '  Yes,  sir,'  and  '  No,  sir,'  an'  '  O,  sir,' 
an'  '  Please,  sir,'  like  a  lot  of  filthy  fa-ags,  Heffy  'ud  think 
no  end  of  us." 

Whilst  controlling  the  college  paper  it  was  the  Beetle's 
good  fortune  to  become  more  intimate  with  the  head 
master  than  other  boys  ;  he  was  allowed  the  run  of  the 
worthy  principal's  library,  which  was  stocked  with  note- 
worthy books :  there  Beetle  found  a  fat  armchair,  a 
silver  inkstand,  and  unlimited  pens  and  paper.  There 
were  scores  and  scores  of  ancient  dramatists  ;  there  were 
Hakluyt,  his  voyages  ;  French  translations  of  Muscovite 
authors  called  Pushkin  and  Lermontoff  ;  little  tales  of  a 
heady  and  bewildering  nature,  interspersed  with  unusual 
songs — Peacock  was  that  writer's  name ;  there  was 
Borrow's  "  Lavengro  "  ;  an  odd  theme,  purporting  to 
be  a  translation  of  something,  called  a  "  Rubaiyat," 
which  the  head  said  was  a  poem  not  yet  come  to  its 
own  ;  there  were  hundreds  of  volumes  of  verse — 
Crashaw  ;  Dryden  ;  Alexander  Smith  ;  L.E.L.  ;  Lydia 
Sigourney  ;  Fletcher's  "  Purple  Island  "  ;  Donne  ; 
Marlowe's  "  Faust  "  ;  and — this  made  McTurk  (to 
whom  Beetle  conveyed  it)  sheer  drunk  for  three  days — 
Ossian  ;  "  The  Earthly  Paradise  "  ;  "  Atalanta  in  Caly- 
don  "  ;   and  Rossetti — to  name  only  a  few. 

The  interest  and  encouragement  which  the  head  took 
in  the  College  Chronicle  and  its  youthful  editor  must 
have  greatly  influenced  Kipling  as  a  boy,  and  the  dedica- 
tion of  "  Stalky  and  Co."  to  him  is  one  of  the  finest  poems 
we  have  from  Kipling's  pen.     "  The  Head,"  who  tried 

24s 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

to  teach  his  unruly  crowd  of  boys  common  sense  ("  Truth 
and  God's  own  common  sense"),  which  Kipling  believed 
was  more  than  knowledge,  could  not  have  been  but 
gratified  with  this  tribute,  coming  as  it  did  after  many 
days. 

It  may  be  freely  granted  that  if  ever  there  lived  three 
boys  who  were  the  embodiment  of  the  resourceful  and 
cheerful  Anglo-Saxon  spirit,  they  are  to  be  met  arm-in- 
arm in  "  Stalky  and  Co."  Stalky  became  in  due  course  a 
colonel  of  Sikhs,  McTurk  entered  the  Indian  Telegraph 
Service,  and  the  sportive  Beetle,  with  his  gig-lamps, 
sailed  out  to  India  and  fame. 

"  The  Head,"  who  for  twenty  years  had  been  busy 
laying  broad  the  foundations  of  a  truly  Imperial  educa- 
tion, had  kindliness  and  wise  insight  enough  to  know 
that  a  boy  may  be  in  every  mischievous  scrape  that  takes 
place  in  the  school,  and  yet  remain  pure  and  wholesome, 
and  withal  lovable.  Anybody  who  can  discern  between 
the  lines  of  "  Stalky  and  Co."  is  well  aware  that  the  real 
hero  of  the  book  is  "  The  Head  "  himself.  Readers  will 
bear  in  mind  that  Kipling's  old  master,  Cormell  Price, 
died  in  1910,  at  the  age  of  seventy-four.  Mr.  E.  H. 
Blakeney,  of  King's  School,  Ely,  in  an  appreciative  notice 
of  him  has  this  to  say  : 

Patient,  brave,  wise,  with  a  keen  insight  into  the  simplicities  as  well  as 
the  complexities  of  a  boy's  nature,  Cormell  Price  was  an  exemplary  head 
master.  No  one  better  realized  that  than  his  boys.  But  he  was  also  a 
great  deal  more.  As  the  close  personal  friend  of  William  Morris,  the  poet, 
and  Edward  Burne-Jones,  the  painter,  he  might  be  expected  to  possess  a 
literary  and  artistic  side  which,  in  the  bustle  of  a  teacher's  time,  is  only 
too  apt  to  become  disused.  And  indeed  his  literary  instinct  was  rarely  at 
fault.  I  remember  very  well  being  present  (more  than  twenty  years  ago) 
at  one  of  the  fortnightly  debates  at  the  old  "  Coll." — as  it  was  affectionately 
dubbed — ^when  the  "  Head  "  gave  as  his  contribution  to  the  evening's 
proceedings,  a  reading  from  a  slim  paper-covered  volume  which  was,  I 
suspect,  unknown  to  any  of  his  audience.  He  prefaced  the  reading  by 
remarking,  "  I  think  you  boys  will  be  interested  in  this  story  I  am  going  to 
read ;  it  is  by  one  of  your  own  schoolfellows,  whom  some  of  you  here 
246 


"STALKY   AND    CO." 

will,  of  course,  remember.  I  venture  to  prophesy  for  him  a  distinguished 
place  among  our  best  writers.  Perhaps  you  guess  to  whom  I  refer.  It 
is  young  Kipling."  Some  brief  sketch  of  Cormell  Price's  life  work,  with 
extracts  from  his  admirable  letters,  may  yet  be  published.  Then  it  will 
be  seen  that  among  the  head  masters  of  our  day  Cormell  Price  holds  a  high 
and  honoured  place. 

"  Stalky  and  Co."  has  formed  the  bone  of  contention 
in  many  valiant  battles  in  the  reviews  and  magazines. 
One  critic  objected  to  the  slang,  another  looked  upon  it 
as  a  poisonous  book,  while  yet  another  hailed  it  as  the 
best  school  story  ever  written.  The  following  enthu- 
siastic notice  is  from  the  Review  of  the  Week,  a  journal 
which  had  an  ephemeral  existence  in  the  nineties.  Under 
the  heading  of  "  Schoolboys  Three,"  on  November  ii, 
1899,  it  ha3ed  "  Beetle,"  the  inimitable,  in  these  words: 

This  is  a  book  for  men  ;  a  joyous  book.  It  is  pure,  unadulterated  boy. 
Not  the  prim  boy  that  comes  up  for  the  first  prizes,  the  book-fag  who 
carries  about  with  him,  like  a  tin  halo,  the  smiling  approval  of  the  Autho- 
rities. But  it  is  the  boy  as  boys  know  him ;  a  roystering,  unlicked  young 
cub.  There  is  your  "  Tom  Brown  "  boy  and  your  "  Eric  "  boy,  but  in 
"  Uncle  Stalky  "  you  have  the  essential  boy,  the  boy  that  boys  worship 
and  grown  men  remember  with  mirthful  affection.  Stalky  is  a  rich  inven- 
tion. He  suffers  a  little,  perhaps,  from  the  fact  that  his  inventor  has  had 
close  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Terence  Mulvaney  and  other  picturesque 
adventurers.  The  language  of  Stalky  and  his  affluent  resourcefulness — 
closely  imitated  by  the  worshipping  company — take  heightened  colour 
when  seen  across  the  years  that  the  locusts  have  eaten.  But  when  all  due 
allowance  is  made  for  the  devotee  turned  biographer,  we  accept  Stalky 
thankfully.  We  accept  him  at  his  own  estimate — ^he  is  a  great  man.  Uncle 
Stalky.  He  belongs  to  the  berserk  breed  that  has  widened  the  bounds 
of  the  British  Empire  and  keeps  them  wide.  From  the  Maiden  Aunt 
point  of  view  Stalky  is  a  dreadful,  dreadful  boy ;  from  the  schoolmaster 
point  of  view  he  is  a  rascally  young  rebel.  But  that  does  not  exhaust  the 
estimate.  From  the  point  of  view  of  an  Empire  whose  rough  work  has 
to  be  put  through  by  ready-witted  men.  Stalky  is  of  sterling  value.  He  is, 
in  the  world  of  school  and  the  world  beyond  the  school,  a  genuine  hero, 
and  our  boys,  despite  their  careful  aunts,  will  find  him  out.  So  we  pass 
Stalky  up  to  the  top  of  his  class. 

Kipling  is  one  of  those  authors  who  has  never  con- 

247 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

descended  either  to  the  sentimental  or  the  passing 
literary  fashion.  He  sits  aloof  with  his  severe  Muse, 
communing  highly  on  "  the  sacredness,  the  imperative- 
ness, to  each  man,  of  his  own  day's  work."  So  when  he 
wrote  "  Stalky  and  Co."  he  let  the  angelic  type  of  boy  go 
hang,  and  gave  us  the  delightfully  human  young  animal 
who  is  inclined  to  play  the  "  giddy  garden  goat  "  in  his 
spare  time,  and  to  work  like  a  nigger  at  the  right  moment. 


248 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
SOLDIER  POEMS 

The  hot-bed  of  slang  :  The  Irony  and  gaiety  of  the  British  soldier  : 
The  making  of  a  soul :  Henley  and  the  sword  :  "  The  Five  Nations": 
The  Westminster  Gazette  and  Kipling's  poetry  :  Poems  of  the 
South  African  War  :  "  The  New  Army  in  Training  "  :  Our  Saxon 
ancestors  compared  with  the  British  soldier  of  our  own  times. 


"  /  will  go  where  I  am  wanted,  where  there's  room  for  one  or  two, 
And  the  men  are  none  too  many  for  the  work  there  is  to  do  ; 
Where  the  standing  line  wears  thinner  and  the  drop-ping  dead  lie  thick  ; 
And  the  enemies  oj  England,  they  shall  see  me  and  he  sickP 

A.    E.    HOUSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

SOLDIER  POEMS 

An  ex-soldier  sorrowfully  admitted  the  other  day  to  a 
County  Court  judge  that  money  is  very  scarce  just  now, 
and  that  for  many  weeks  he  had  been  reduced  to  meals 
composed  of  "  slingers."  Now  the  worthy  judge  was 
naturally  puzzled  over  the  meaning  of  this  word  and 
pressed  the  man  for  an  explanation.  The  ex-soldier 
quoted  a  line  from  Kipling's  "  Birds  of  Prey  March  "  in 
which  the  word  is  used,  and  then  informed  the  judge 
that  "  slingers  "  were  army  bread  rolls  dipped  in  tea 
to  make  them  more  tasty  when  jam,  butter  or  meat  was 
not  to  be  had.  Mr.  Ralph  Durand,  in  his  ''  Handbook 
to  the  Poetry  of  Kipling,"  supplies  the  following  deriva- 
tion of  the  word  gleaned  from  a  gunner  in  the  R.H.A. : 

It's  like  this :  at  the  canteen,  when  a  man  as  can't  sing  gets  up  to  sing 
the  men  takes  and  slings  "  slingers  "  at  him. 

Kipling's  writings  are  for  ever  throwing  into  view 
these  inside  words — words,  that  is  to  say,  that  belong 
to  corners  of  life  more  or  less  exclusive.  One  of  the 
fascinations  of  slang  words  is  that  they  are,  so  to  speak, 
skeleton  keys  with  which  one  can  unlock  unaccustomed 
doors.  A  man  who  would  take  the  trouble  to  acquaint 
himself  with  the  origin  and  history  of  all  the  slang  in 
"  Barrack  Room  Ballads "  and  "  The  Seven  Seas  "  would 
soon  be  possessed  of  much  curious  information.  It  is  in- 
evitable that  the  world  of  the  fighting  man,  who  puts 
up  his  caravan  at  remote  spots  all  over  the  world,  should 
be  a  hot-bed  of  slang.     The  soldiers'  slang  falls  into  many 

251 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

divisions.  There  are  Hindustani  words  which  have  been 
embraced  hy  the  Tommy,  such  as  "  Loot,"  which  of 
course  means  plunder  ;  there  is  the  Afrikander  slang 
which  gives  the  word  "  Ikona  "  (pronounced  *  Aikorner  ") 
having  quite  a  variety  of  meanings  from  a  simple  "  No  " 
or  "  No  you  don't,  my  lad  "  in  Kitchen- Kafhr  to  the 
soldier's  perversion  of  it,  in  which  he  uses  it  to  denote  a 
thief.  It  was  also  a  nickname  given  to  the  M.I.  during 
the  South  African  War,  about  which  Kipling  has  written 
in  "The  Five  Nations."  Sometimes  we  find  Dutch- 
Afrikander  words  in  use,  an  example  of  which  is  "  Trek," 
meaning  "  draw."  The  word  was  used  by  the  Boer 
driver  to  his  oxen  when  he  wished  them  to  start,  and 
Tommy  Atkins  uses  the  word  in  a  general  way  when  he 
speaks  of  "  getting  along  "  or  travelling.  The  curious 
word  "  Footsack  "  used  by  soldiers  and  meaning  "  go 
away  "  is  also  Afrikander  slang. 

The  service  man's  almost  childish  love  of  novelty  ; 
his  clear  vision  and  his  bright,  clean  touch  have  given  the 
army  many  new  words  ;  thus  his  nickname  for  a  Maxim 
automatic  quick-firer  throwing  a  one-pound  shell  is  now 
adopted  by  the  Government,  and  the  gun  is  officially 
known  as  a  "  pom-pom."  The  name  arose  from  the 
noise  of  the  report :  pompompompom.  The  gun  was 
first  used  by  the  Boers  against  our  troops  in  South  Africa 
in  1899. 

Many  of  the  expressions  are  alive  with  the  irony  and 
gaiety  of  the  British  soldier,  and  we  find  Thomas  Atkins 
speaks  of  the  men  who  signed  on  for  "  home  service  only  " 
in  the  great  war  of  1914  as  M.O.F.B.  which  stands  for 
Mother's  Own  Fireside  Boys. 

The  unfair  way  in  which  the  D.S.O.  was  said  to  have 
been  distributed  in  the  South  African  War  led  the 
Tommy  to  suggest  that  it  was  awarded  to  Dukes'  Sons 
Only,  and  owing  to  a  misunderstanding  about  a  gold 
watch  (looted)  which  mysteriously  vanished  out  of  a 
soldier's  tunic  while  he  was  in  hospital,  the  aforesaid 
252 


SOLDIER    POEMS 

soldier  rendered  the  magic  letters  R.A.M.C.  as  Rob 
All  My  Comrades — a  taunt  which  is,  of  course,  entirely 
erroneous  and  unjust. 

Doubtless  our  soldiers  have  made  mistakes  and  in- 
dividuals may  have  disgraced  themselves,  but  I  contend 
that  anybody  v^ho  knows  anything  about  the  average 
Tommy  would  stoutly  deny  the  charges  of  brutality 
bi  ought  by  Miss  Emily  Hobhouse  and  others  during  the 
South  African  War.  It  is  the  fashion  of  the  British 
public  to  talk  largely  and  smugly  of  "  thin  red  lines  of 
heroes "  and  yet  at  the  same  time  look  upon  Tommy 
as  a  pampered  fellov/  with  rather  criminal  instincts,  who 
must  be  lashed  into  subordination.  Kipling  has  always 
girdled  scornfully  and  indignantly  against  this  kind  of  folly 
and  blindness.  Of  course  there  is  an  essential  savagery 
in  war  that  must  always  be,  but  the  following  description 
of  Tommy  (from  "  A  Soldier's  Diary "  by  Sergeant 
M.  C.  Jackson)  may  be  quoted  in  his  defence — if  it  be 
needed  after  the  glory  of  Mons,  Cambrai  and  Ypres : 

I  went  down  to  the  farm  for  water.  There  were  two  women  and  several 
girls  there,  and  for  a  wonder  no  officers,  staff  or  otherwise,  at  the  house, 
There  was  a  crowd  of  men  from  every  branch  of  the  column,  and  the 
women  seemed  to  be  in  difficulties,  there  was  such  a  crowd.  Seeing  I 
was  a  corporal,  one  of  them  asked  me  to  keep  them  quiet  and  she  would 
sell  them  stuff.  So  I  fell  them  in,  and  each  man  was  served  in  his  turn  till 
she  couldn't  spare  any  more,  when  they  dispersed  quietly.  I  doubt  if  in 
any  army  of  the  Continent  one  corporal  could  keep  order  among  men 
from  every  regiment  of  a  column,  in  an  enemy's  farmyard,  with  plenty 
of  fowls,  etc.,  running  about — half-starved  men,  too,  and  they  had  to 
pay  a  good  price.  .  .  . 

Next  day  my  company  went  out  with  orders  to  clear  the  two  farms  H., 
which  we  did  pretty  thoroughly ;  they  were  simply  bursting  with  grain 
and  all  sorts  of  produce,  and  pigs  and  poultry  in  hundreds.  We  wetted 
all  the  grain,  burnt  the  forage,  and  killed  the  live  stock,  leaving  merely 
enough  for  the  family.  The  women  couldn't  quite  make  out  Tommy, 
I  think.  A  soldier,  hot  and  grimy  from  burning  their  best  haystack,  and 
bloody  with  the  blood  of  the  old  frou's  pet  minorcas  and  anconas,  would 
go  up  to  the  back  door  without  a  trace  of  ill-feeling  and  ask  very  civilly 
for  a  glass  of  milk. 

253 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

What  ?  The  man  who  wrote  this  was  a  soldier  of  the 
British  forces  in  South  Africa  and,  of  course,  would  be 
favourable,  I  hear  the  reader  say.  Then,  perhaps,  you 
would  like  a  word  or  two  from  a  Man  of  Iron  and  a  bitter 
foe — General  Viljoen  : 

The  "  Tommy  "  who  draws  a  very  poor  daily  pay,  for  which  he  has  to 
perform  a  tremendous  lot  of  work,  is,  if  not  the  most  capable  fighter,  the 
most  willing  in  all  circumstances  to  oifer  himself  as  a  sacrifice  at  the  altar 
of  duty,  or  of  what  he  considers  his  duty  to  his  country.  As  regards  his 
fortitude,  I  must  repeat  what  I  have  already  said — that  he  is  a  courageous, 
willing,  and  faithful  warrior,  and  that  it  is  to  his  fidelity  and  patriotism 
that  the  British  Army  may  attribute  its  success. 

The  British  soldier  passes  through  a  great  process  of 
regeneration  in  war  time,  and  all  men — the  black  sheep 
as  well — rise  out  of  their  sloth  and  selfishness. 

We  have  seen  the  pale  London-bred  Tommy  turning 
into  a  man  of  power  and  endurance  after  a  few  months 
in  South  Africa.  He  finds  a  new  world  full  of  wonder 
and  magnificence,  and  this  point  of  view  finds  expression 
in  Kipling's  song  of  the  returning  soldier,  who  tells  of 
the  feelings  that  seem  to  crowd  in  upon  him.  He  has 
seen  death  in  all  its  horrible  forms  ;  a  thousand  men  struck 
to  earth  at  Magersfontein  ;  the  shell-swept  death-trap 
of  Spion  Kop  or  the  reeking  enteric  camps  of  Ladysmith 
— these  have  all  taught  him  things.  It  is  a  sensation — an 
intoxication  to  be  felt,  not  to  be  described,  but  Kipling 
has  done  his  best  to  describe  it.  The  bewildered  Tommy 
has  met  men  from  all  parts  of  the  Empire,  from  the  New 
Zealand  and  Australian  Commonwealth,  from  Canada, 
India  and  Africa.  He  did  not  dream  that  the  soul  of 
Britain  was  so  great  and  that  the  red  little,  dead  little 
army  of  which  he  formed  a  part  was  so  small.  It 
staggered  him,  but  the  flame  of  understanding  burnt 
brighter  and  brighter  until  at  last  the  glory  of  it  came 
to  him  : 

— not  pride. 
Nor  yet  conceit,  but  on  the  ^ole 

254 


f 


SOLDIER    POEMS 

(If  such  a  term  may  he  applied). 
The  makirC  of  a  bloomiti'  soul. 

As  I  Stood  on  Waterloo  Station  watching  a  batch  of 
war-worn,  wounded  soldiers  just  returned  from  the 
trenches  at  Flanders,  I  thought  of  those  wonderful  lines 
by  Kipling  ;  they  had  walked  through  the  fiery  furnace 
and  I  saw  in  their  faces  that  look  that  only  comes  to  men 
who  have  been  cleansed  of  all  that  is  mean  and  ignoble. 

It  has  been  said  that  they  who  rose  by  the  sword 
perished  by  the  sword.  Yet  it  must  be  remembered 
that  they  who  did  not  rise  by  the  sword  did  not  rise  at 
all.  It  is  the  weak  and  decadent  who  fall  by  the  sword. 
So  the  sword,  as  Henley  has  said,  sifts  the  slag  from  the 
metal : 

The  Sword 

Singing— 

Driving  the  darkness, 

Even  as  the  banners 

And  spears  of  the  Morning  ; 

Sifting  the  nations, 

The  Slag  from  the  metal. 

The  waste  and  the  weak 

From  the  fit  and  the  strong  ; 

Fighting  the  brute, 

The  abyssmal  Fecundity  ; 

Checking  the  gross 

Multitudinous  blunders. 

The  groping,  the  purblind 

Excesses  in  service 

Of  the  Womb  universal, 

The  absolute  drudge. 

The  Empire  now  understands  the  brotherhood  based 
upon  the  English  Bible,  the  English  language,  and  the 
great  pillar  of  English  literature.  They  understand  the 
spirit  behind  the  people  and  the  great-hearted  loyalty  of 
India  and  all  our  great  brotherhood.  It  is  a  spirit  very 
far  apart  from  flag-flapping  and  blatant  jingoism. 

Kipling  was  profoundly  convinced  of  the  coming  of 

25s 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

the  giant  struggle  which  has  proved  only  too  real,  and 
for  some  years  he  has  stumped  the  country  in  a  literary 
manner,  preaching  to  ears,  most  of  them  unwilling  to 
receive  it,  the  doctrine  of  universal  military  service  and 
the  call  of  Empire.  Mr.  Holbrook  Jackson  has  explained 
more  clearly  than  any  other  critic  Kipling's  creed  : 

I  remember  Richard  Le  Gallienne,  in  his  very  able  study,  thought  Kipling's 
Imperialism  the  result  of  shoddy,  if  not  shady,  inspiration.  And  more 
recently  G.  K.  Chesterton  levelled  against  Kipling  the  clever  and  mis- 
leading argument  that  he  worshipped  England  because  she  was  powerful 
not  because  she  was  English.  The  argument  is  misleading  because  it  makes 
Kipling  a  mere  worshipper  of  power  (like  Nietzsche)  instead  of  a  worshipper 
of  that  very  different  thing,  power  wielded  after  the  manner  of  the  English. 
He  would  love  England,  I  imagine,  in  any  case,  but  it  is  a  poor  lover  who 
would  be  downhearted  at  the  beloved  one's  increase  in  strength  and  beauty. 
Kipling  is  proud  of  the  Empire,  and  he  would  consolidate  it.  But  neither 
pride  nor  the  desire  to  protect  the  subject  of  pride  convicts  a  man  of 
jingoism — else  were  we  all  in  a  bad  way  on  one  ground  or  another. 

There  is  a  dominant  note  in  all  Kipling's  work  which 
is  summed  up  in  the  line  "  I  saw  nought  common  on 
Thy  earth."  He  presents  to  us  a  new  renaissance  of 
wonder — but  he  is  wise  enough  to  combine  his  vision, 
not  only  with  the  particularly  cultured  classes  but  with 
those  who  have  no  special  consciousness  of  their  own  very 
true  importance.  Thus  he  has  put  a  certain  stern  philo- 
sophy into  the  mouth  of  the  soldier  who  was  supposed, 
in  our  imperfect  knowledge  of  him,  to  be  an  ignorant 
fellow  who  spent  most  of  his  days  brawling  and  drinking. 
The  minutely  detailed  pictures  of  the  new  Service  Man  in 
''  The  Five  Nations  "  contain  many  flashes  of  grim  pathos 
and  naughty  wisdom,  and  in  such  songs  as  "  Chant- 
Pagan  "  and  "  Lichtenberg  "  there  are  lines  in  which 
that  elusive  something  which  is  the  soul  of  the  soldier 
is  captured  and  reproduced.  How  good  in  "  The  Re- 
turn "  is  the  meditation  of  the  returned  "  Service  Man," 
no  longer  in  Kipling's  work  Tommy  Atkins,  be  it  re- 
membered. He  went  out  to  Africa  a  mere  child  and 
256 


SOLDIER    POEMS 

he  has  come  back  a  man.  After  all,  the  ill-luck  that 
sent  him  travelling  to  meet  the  Boer  was  the  best  possible 
good  fortune  ;  it  brought  him  into  contact  with  a  race 
of  men  who  taught  him  "  the  size  and  meaning  of  the 
game  "  of  war. 

Kipling's  poem,  which  describes  our  late  enemy  under 
the  common  name  of  "  Piet,"  illustrates  the  sort  of 
affection  which  springs  up  between  combatants  worthy 
of  each  other's  steel.  The  Boers  seemed  to  be  the  very 
race  with  whom  the  service  man's  temperament  jumped, 
and  when  the  troops  returned  to  England  they  spoke 
enthusiastically  of  the  man  who  ''  does  not  lose  his  rifle 
an'  who  does  not  lose  'is  seat." 

Never  has  the  soul  of  the  true  wanderer  found  more 
complete  expression  than  in  the  wonderful  "  Chant- 
Pagan."  *  A  telling  instance  of  that  reverence  and 
wonder,  is  to  be  found  in  the  lines  which  tell  of  the 
trooper's  forty-mile  ride,  with  only  the  stars  for  his  mark, 
and  only  the  night  for  his  friend,  and  of  "  the  silence, 
the  shine  an'  the  size  of  the  'igh,  inexpressible  skies. 
Mystery  and  wonder  are  lurking  in  these  verses — it  is 
the  authentic  thrill  of  the  soul  in  the  presence  of  a 
vastness  which  cannot  be  understood.  Kipling  is  master 
of  a  certain  kind  of  verse  in  which  he  makes  the  dialectic 
hero  speak  for  him,  it  is  not  ordinary  soldier  slang,  but 
it  has  a  strange  air  of  reality,  every  word  seems  imbued 
with  personality,  fused  into  a  consistent  whole  by  the  fire 
of  genius.  Without  Kipling's  genius,  it  would  merely 
be  like  the  slang  and  doggerel  song  of  the  East  End 
music-hall. 

The  Westminster  Gazette  rebuked  Kipling  for  his 
calculated  literary  barbarisms  in  the  "  Chant-Pagan," 
"  Pharaoh  and  the  Sergeant,"  and  other  poems  in  "  The 
Five  Nations" ;  it  is  pointed  out  that  certain  lines  are 

*  The  original  meaning  of  the  Latin  paganus  was  a  "  villager,"  but  it 
was  afterwards  applied  to  the  irregular  soldier  who  was  enrolled  for  tem- 
porary service. 

R  257 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

admirable  in  the  literary  sense,  but  they  make  no  pre- 
tence at  being  Tommy  language,  and,  in  vulgar  phrase, 
''  give  the  show  away."  "  Mr.  Atkins,  we  are  quite  sure, 
does  not  talk  of  '  the  silence,  the  shine,  and  the  size,  of 
the  'igh  inexpressible  skies,'  and,  when  we  get  into  this 
vein,  the  omission  of  the  aspirate  becomes  suddenly 
absurd.  The  sensation  produced  is  as  though  Mr. 
Stephen  Phillips  were  to  print  an  edition  of  Ulysses 
without  the  h's." 

But  I  am  afraid,  the  Westminster  Gazette  are  on  the 
wrong  track,  when  they  put  down  certain  literary  phrases 
used  by  the  soldier  as  false  notes.  No  one  can  tell  what 
Tommy  is  going  to  say  the  next  moment  ;  he  has  an 
amazingly  varied  selection  of  quotations  gathered  from 
all  the  corners  of  the  globe,  and  his  letters,  which  have 
been  written  from  the  trenches  in  Flanders  and  published 
in  the  press,  show  that  he  is  rather  a  master  in  the  art  of 
the  ugly,  forcible,  yet  picturesque  description.  His 
letters  are  vivid,  vital,  keen  as  a  sword's  thrust,  and, 
above  all,  splendidly  masculine.  The  soldier  is  as  full 
of  wonder  as  a  child,  and  each  village  in  France  and 
Belgium  is  a  new  outlook  upon  life  for  him.  The  soldier 
is  the  only  critic  who  could  fitly  judge  Kipling's  dialect 
poems,  and  it  is  most  likely  that  the  so-called  literary 
expressions,  which  are  said  to  be  so  oddly  out  of  character, 
would  pass  muster  with  him  while  the  ''  slang  "  might  be 
questioned  here  and  there.  We  must  remember  that 
Mulvaney,  when  asked  by  Kipling  what  he  kens  of 
Polonius,  answered  :  "  All  that  Shakespeare  ever  wrote, 
an'  a  dale  more  than  the  gallery  shouted,"  and  that 
Ortheris  often  quoted  from  Macaulay's  poems. 

The  public  does  not  know  the  Tommy.  We  must 
no  longer  count  our  army  in  guns  and  sabres,  but  in 
souls.  The  service  man  of  "  The  Five  Nations "  was  rather 
a  revelation  to  us,  and  when  Kipling  introduced  him  to 
us  we  were  rather  inclined  to  cavil.  We  did  not  under- 
stand his  personality  or  that  he  had  "  two  separate  sides 
258 


SOLDIER    POEMS 

to  his  head  "  until  we  sent  two  hundred  thousand  men 
just  like  him  to  the  continental  trenches,  and  then  he 
simply  staggered  us.  We  did  not  dream  of  such  valour, 
in  fact,  some  people,  until  that  point,  had  not  discovered 
that  the  Tommy  even  possessed  a  soul.  When  one  of 
the  keenest  literary  men  in  London  admits  that  it  was 
only  this  war  that  put  him  in  complete  sympathy  with 
Kipling's  soldiers,  it  shows  that  people  are  looking  up 
their  "  Barrack  Room  Ballads  "  and  "  The  Five  Nations  " 
afresh,  and  are  preparing  to  welcome  "  'orse,  foot,  and 
guns  "  in  all  the  splendour  of  their  manhood,  as  they 
have  never  thought  to  welcome  them  before. 

Of  all  the  poems  the  South  African  War  has  inspired, 
perhaps  the  ditty  called  "  M.  I.,"  which  humorously 
illustrates  the  work  of  the  mounted  infantry,  shows 
Kipling's  close  acquaintanceship  with  the  Tommy  more 
clearly  than  any  other.  There  is,  however,  a  false  note 
in  one  verse.  Kipling  is  unjust  in  saying  that  No.  3's 
(horse  holders)  have  an  easy  time  and  are  generally 
braggarts.  Any  soldier  will  tell  you  that  this  is  the  most 
trying  job  that  can  be  given  to  any  man.  Think  of  a 
troop  leaving  their  horses  with  a  few  men  under  the 
shelter  of  a  kopje,  where  they  are  unable  to  see  but  yet 
can  hear  their  comrades  taking  part  in  an  engagement. 
It  is  difficult  to  understand  the  courage  and  self-control 
that  is  required  to  play  the  waiting  game  ;  and  if  the 
men  in  the  firing-line  are  by  any  chance  outflanked  or 
captured  you  will  soon  get  a  "  notice  "  in  the  shape  of 
a  volley  or  two  from  some  unknown  point.  The  horse- 
holder  is  handicapped  with  three  and  sometimes  more 
horses,  besides  being  denied  the  relief  to  his  feelings  of 
shooting  back  at  his  foe.  Personal  fear  lessens  before  a 
task  which  occupies  all  the  attention,  but  sitting  idle  on  a 
horse,  having  time  to  listen  and  think — to  imagine  things, 
too  ! — requires  courage. 

Kipling's  South  African  poems  do  not  introduce  us 
to  the  new  Tommy  Atkins.     In  all  of  these  verses  there 

259 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

is  the  same  touch  of  gloom  and  sadness  that  we  find  in 
the  Indian  soldier  stories.  There  are  no  soldiers,  for 
instance,  in  "  The  Five  Nations "  at  all  comparable  with 
the  men  of  our  Expeditionary  Force  in  France.  There  is 
no  hint  of  sadness  or  despondency  in  their  letters  home ; 
you  hear  of  them  cracking  jokes,  boyishly  guying  each 
other  and  singing  songs  as  they  lie  in  the  trenches  with 
shells  screaming  close  over  their  heads.  But  the  men  of 
the  South  African  War,  according  to  Kipling,  were 
inclined  to  be  melancholy  and  reflective.  The  soldier 
in  "  Chant-Pagan  "  is  after  all  a  very  sad  fellow,  and 
when  he  returns  to  England  he  finds  that  it  is  too  small 
and  stale — "  somethin'  gone  small  with  the  lot  " — and 
resolves  to  trek  South  again.  "  The  Half-Ballad  of 
Waterval  "  gives  us  a  still  keener  note  of  depression — 
the  depression  of  men  who  feel  the  burning  shame  of 
surrender  and  captivity.  "  Boots  "  is  not  at  all  lively 
with  its  ramblings  of  a  half-delirious  Tommy.  But  still 
I  have  met  all  Rudyard  Kipling's  soldiers  out  of  "  The 
Five  Nations "  in  one  barrack-room  at  Aldershot  during 
the  days  of  the  last  South  African  War.  But  I  do  not 
think  it  would  be  quite  so  easy  to  find  them  now,  for  the 
customs  and  habits  of  the  army  have  changed  wonderfully 
since  then.  The  Boer  taught  our  soldier-man  many 
valuable  lessons,  and  the  army  which  returned  from 
South  Africa  was  not  the  same  "  red  little,  dead  little 
Army "  which  had  arrived.  It  had  added  to  those 
qualities,  which  are  peculiarly  its  own,  all  the  natural 
military  virtues  of  the  excellent  Dutch  farmer. 

The  meditation  of  the  trooper  in  "  M.  I."  who  had 
been  in  Africa  for  a  year  illustrates  this : 

/  wish  myself  could  talk  to  myself  as  I  left  Hm  a  year  ago. 
I  could  tell  Hm  a  lot  that  would  save  him  a  lot  on  the  things 
that  V  ought  to  know  ! 

And  again  in  "  The  Return  "  we  find  Tommy  moralizing 
as  to  the  wonderful  effects  that  have  been  wrought  in 
260 


SOLDIER   POEMS 

his  mind  by  his  South  African  experience  :  ''  I  started 
as  an  average  kid,  I  finished  as  a  thinking  man." 

Many  and  various  have  been  the  attempts  to  portray 
the  British  Tommy,  but  few  writers  have  met  with  any 
great  measure  of  success.  Perhaps  the  soldiers  in  Kipling's 
South  African  poems  are  the  best  of  all  soldier  creations 
up  to  the  present  time  ;  while  Terence  Mulvaney,  not 
so  seriously  intended,  has  become  a  household  name. 
Emanuel  Pyecroft  * — a  second-class  petty  officer — is  a 
most  entertaining  character  and  is  the  only  really  counter- 
part of  the  man  in  the  trench  in  Flanders  written  before 
the  war.  But  up  to  the  time  of  the  South  African  War 
verses,  Kipling  had  not  created  the  new  Tommy  Atkins, 
who  is  the  maddest,  merriest  fellow  the  world  has  ever 
seen,  but  he  seems  to  have  been  endeavouring  to  dig 
out  his  main  characteristics  in  "  Traffics  and  Dis- 
coveries." 

It  is  interesting  to  examine  the  soldier  in  Kipling's 
stories  and  verse  from  1886  to  191 5.  Some  people  think 
that  his  greatest  success  was  achieved  in  his  revelation 
of  the  Tommy  in  India  in  ''  Soldiers  Three."  But,  in  spite 
of  the  high  spirits  and  cheery  optimism  of  Mulvaney 
and  his  comrades,  there  is  something  which  dims  the 
funny  side  of  these  sketches.  There  is  a  certain  strain 
and  fret  in  such  a  story  as  "  Love-o'-Women  "  that  one 
can  never  forget,  and  the  oppression  that  reigns  over  that 
grim  tale  "  In  the  Matter  of  a  Private  "  seems  beyond 
mere  words.  Why  is  it  that  the  Indian  soldier  tales 
are  surcharged  with  an  intolerable  gloom  ?  Many 
writers  have  called  attention  to  this  fact,  but  no  one 
has  yet  linked  together  any  chain  of  comment  which 
helps  us  to  understand  why  the  cloud  of  sadness  lingers 
in  the  memory  and  excludes  the  comic  spirit  w^hich  is 
just  around  the  corner.     Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  has  noticed 

*  Pyecroft  is  introduced  in  "  The  Bonds  of  Discipline,"  and  appears  also 
in  '^  Their  Lawful  Occasions,"  which  are  to  be  found  in  "  Traffics  and 
Discoveries  "  (1904). 

261 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

the   melancholy   which   lurks   in   his   early   work.      He 
says  : 

On  the  whole,  however,  the  impression  left  by  Mr.  Kipling's  military 
stories  is  one  of  melancholy.  Tommy  Atkins,  whom  the  author  knows  so 
well  and  sympathizes  with  so  truly,  is  a  solitary  being  in  India.  In  all  these 
tales  I  am  conscious  of  the  barracks  as  of  an  island  in  a  desolate  ocean  of 
sand.  All  around  is  the  infinite  waste  of  India,  obscure,  monotonous, 
immense,  inhabited  by  black  men  and  pariah  dogs,  Pathans  and  green 
parrots,  kites  and  crocodiles,  and  long  solitudes  of  high  grass.  The  island 
in  this  sea  is  a  little  collection  of  young  men,  sent  out  from  the  remoteness 
of  England  to  serve  "  the  Widder,"  and  to  help  to  preserve  for  her  the 
rich  and  barbarous  Empire  of  the  East.  This  microcosm  of  the  barracks 
has  its  own  laws,  its  own  morals,  its  own  range  of  emotional  sentiment. 
What  these  are  the  new  writer  has  not  told  us,  for  that  would  be  a  long 
story,  but  he  has  shown  us  what  he  himself  has  divined.  He  has  held  the 
door  open  for  a  moment,  and  has  revealed  to  us  a  set  of  very  human  creations. 
One  thing,  at  least,  the  biographer  of  Mulvaney  and  Ortheris  has  no  diffi- 
culty in  persuading  us,  namely,  that  God  in  His  wisdom  has  made  the 
heart  of  the  British  soldier,  that  there  are  limits  to  this  dazzling  new  talent, 
the  eclat  of  which  had  almost  lifted  us  off  our  critical  feet. 

When  we  consider  that  Kipling's  first  book  appeared 
when  he  was  only  eighteen  and  most  of  the  soldier  tales 
appeared  before  he  was  twenty-six,  we  are  forced  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  rather  pessimistic  as  a  young 
man  ;  he  seems  to  have  passed  through  this  stage  of 
pessimism  by  stages  until  he  has  arrived  at  the  optimism 
of  some  of  his  later  works.  It  is  as  a  rule  the  reverse, 
for  the  cruelty  of  fate  is  more  likely  to  become  apparent 
to  people  as  they  grow  older.  Why  did  Kipling  start 
by  writing  such  dreadful  stories  ? 

In  "  The  New  Army  in  Training,"  published  ini9i  5,  we 
find  that  the  Kipling  of  the  "  Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills," 
the  creator  of  "  Mulvaney  "  has  gone  from  us.  We  have 
probably  had  the  last  of  those  soldier  stories,  which 
touched  something  that  lies  deep  in  the  Anglo-Saxon 
blood.  But  it  is  impossible  to  introduce  Mulvaney.  The 
only  thing  to  be  done  is  to  take  down  "  Soldiers  Three  " 
from  his  bookcase  and  learn  how  Private  Stanley  Ortheris 
262 


SOLDIER   POEMS 

differs  from  the  new  material  of  Kitchener's  Army. 
In  this  book  Kipling  has  described  the  New  Army  in 
general  terms,  not  in  the  terms  of  his  own  creations,  as 
in  his  earlier  soldier  tales.  But  it  is  perhaps  too  much 
to  expect,  even  from  Kipling,  portraits  equal  to  those 
of  the  past,  in  these  articles  which  were  written  in  the 
hurry-scurry  of  a  motor-car  dash  among  the  new  armies* 
What  he  has  done,  is  to  talk  to  men  here  and  there  and 
make  them  talk  to  him,  afterwards  serving  up  his  general 
impressions.  They  are  effective  and  picturesque  im- 
pressions, but  now  and  again  the  vigorousness  seems  to 
degenerate  for  a  moment  into  hustle.  He  gives  us  the 
impression  that  his  motor-car  is  always  waiting  for  him  ; 
the  throbbing  and  growling  of  the  engine  comes  to  us 
between  the  fire  and  spirit  of  his  lines.  How  strange 
is  the  spell  of  war,  how  it  blends  the  merry  and  the  sad  ! 
Certainly  there  is  a  plaintive  note  which  seems  to  lurk 
in  these  sketches.  Or  is  it  imagination  colouring 
Kipling's  little  book  with  old  memories  ?  He  certainly 
recalls  old  memories  in  the  article  on  the  Canadians, 
in  which  he  tells  us  that  he  met  a  good  many  of  the  old 
South  African  crowd  ;  and  that  men  who  had  painted 
Cape  Town  pink  were  now  grave  non-commissioned 
officers  worth  their  disciplined  weights  in  gold. 

Whilst  reading  this  article  I  was  constrained  to  look 
up  those  verses  in  "  The  Five  Nations  "  which  tell  of  a 
detachment  of  English  soldiers  at  Cape  Town  saying 
good-bye  to  a  mixed  lot  of  Colonials.  These  men  who 
had  "  doubled  out  "  to  South  Africa  from  all  parts 
of  the  Empire — from  Eastern  and  Western  Canada, 
New  Zealand,  New  South  Wales  and  Ceylon  find  ''  the 
world's  no  bigger  than  a  kraal."  Just  as  they  had  mingled 
their  blood  in  the  South  with  the  blood  of  the  English 
Tommy  and  Volunteer,  they  have  "  rolled  up  "  again  to 
mingle  it  with  ours  in  the  trenches  of  France.  Canada 
sent  a  contingent  to  South  Africa,  but  Kipling  points 
out  that  she  has  sent  us  an  army — "  horse,  foot,  guns, 

263 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

engineers,  and  all  details  " — this  time,  and  he  points 
out,  taking  their  strength  at  thirty  three  thousand  and 
the  Dominion's  population  at  eight  millions,  the  camp  is 
Canada  on  the  scale  of  one  to  two  hundred  and  forty — 
"  an  entire  nation  unrolled  across  a  few  square  miles." 

Again  Kipling  makes  us  understand  the  intense 
willingness  of  Kitchener's  Army — their  concentration 
on  their  work  *'  with  a  passion  to  learn  as  passionately 
as  they  are  taught."  An  old  soldier,  who  was  watching 
the  zealous  regiments  at  drill,  remarked  that  they  were 
different  to  the  soldiers  of  his  young  days :  "  They  ain't 
doin'  it  to  be  done  with  it  and  get  off.  They're  doin' 
it  because — because  they  want  to  do  it." 

Writers  of  army  stories  in  the  future  will  do  well  to 
study  "  The  New  Army  in  Training,"  and  the  letters 
written  home  by  the  men  in  the  trenches.  In  these 
documents  we  shall  learn  many  things  about  the  customs 
and  habits  of  the  "  new  soldier."  I  am  afraid  that  many 
well-meaning  writers  of  soldier  stories  do  not  take  the 
trouble  to  search  these  letters,  which  are  packed  with 
semi-cynical,  humorous  remarks  on  himself.  Before  this 
great  war  we  only  had  a  hazy  idea  of  Tommy  Atkins, 
mainly  formed  on  the  literature  of  the  South  African 
campaign.  But  in  this  war  we  have  had  a  splendid 
opportunity  to  study  the  soldier's  point  of  view  and 
attitude  to  the  war  from  his  letters,  which  have  taken 
the  place  of  the  more  expert,  and  often  exaggerated, 
accounts  of  the  war  correspondent.  Mr.  St.  John 
Adcock,  in  "  In  the  Firing  Line,"  has  been  inspired  to 
make  a  selection  from  the  best  of  these  letters  from  the 
front,  and  this  little  book  should  be  in  the  hands  of  all 
who  wish  to  get  close  to  the  mystery  of  Tommy  Atkins. 
In  the  pages  of  this  work  the  reader  will  scrape  acquain- 
tance with  private  soldiers  whose  names  are  not  Ortheris 
or  Mulvaney.  If  we  examine  these  documents  we  shall 
find  that  the  average  Tommy  does  not  drop  his  aitches, 
nor  use  that  strange  kind  of  military  grammai  invented 
264 


SOLDIER    POEMS 

by  Kipling  in  "  Soldiers  Three."  The  general  attitude 
of  the  soldier,  gathered  from  his  own  writings,  is  that  of  a 
businesslike  gaiety.  The  first  idea  that  comes  to  him 
and  his  only  object  is  to  ''  see  the  thing  through,"  and 
then  to  return  to  his  own  people.  Meanwhile  he  jokes — 
jokes  at  himself — at  his  officers — at  the  Germans — at  the 
blood  and  mud  and  slime  of  the  trenches — at  everything. 
The  awful  instruments  which  hurl  death  do  not  awe  him  ; 
he  stands  in  the  trenches  and  jokes  about  the  Krupps' 
machine  that  is  moved  up  to  batter  him.  This  is  the 
Joyous  Joust  .  .  .  the  Great  Adventure.  What  a  grand 
spirit  in  which  to  go  fighting  !  A  spirit  which  is  Homeric 
and  mediaeval. 

Of  course  Kipling's  "  The  New  Army  in  Training  " 
does  not  touch  upon  the  British  soldier — I  refer  in  this 
case  to  the  traditional  service  man — the  regular,  who  is  as 
distinct  in  temperament  as  he  is  in  origin  from  a  soldier 
of  Kitchener's  Army,  or  a  Territorial.  The  regular 
possesses  certain  qualities  which  are  peculiarly  his  own. 
The  ways  and  works  of  the  Tommy  are  inscrutable.  His 
character  is  so  charged  with  paradoxical  byways  that  it  is 
most  difficult  to  analyse  it  tersely.  In  the  days  of  our 
Saxon  ancestors,  it  seems,  the  chief  qualities  of  the  suc- 
cessful soldier  were  great  physical  strength  and  a  most 
violent  temper — the  Berserker  rage,  in  fact — but  the 
service  man  of  to-day  does  not  believe  in  the  ancestral 
anger  and  rage.  There  is  little  excitement  about  him 
as  he  goes  into  action,  and  he  realizes  that  gaiety  and 
cheerfulness  are  more  valuable  than  violent  anger.  The 
time  to  beware  of  the  British  soldier  is  when  he  grows 
polite. 


265 


I 


I 


CHAPTER  XIX 

KIPLING'S  CULTURED  DELIGHT 
IN  ODOUR 

The  soul  of  Sussex  :  The  spirit  of  reverence  and  wonder  :  George 
Borrow  :  The  spirit  of  the  English  country-side  :  Kipling  and  the 
sense  of  smell  :  Kipling's  passion  for  dogs  :  "  Garm — A  Hostage  " 


People  run  abroad  in  quest  of  adventures^  and  traverse  Spain  or 
Portugal  on  mule  or  on  horseback  ;  zuhereas  there  are  ten  times  more 
adventures  to  be  met  with  in  England  than  in  Spain ,  Port^igal,  or 
stupid  Germa7iy  to  boot. 

George  Borrow. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

KIPLING'S  CULTURED  DELIGHT 
IN  ODOUR 

One  of  Rudyard  Kipling's  most  distinctive  achievements 
— and  perhaps  his  greatest  service  to  his  generation — is 
that,  better  than  any  w^riter  of  the  day  v^ith  the  exception 
of  Mr.  Belloc,  he  has  seized  and  set  out  in  arresting  and 
vivid  v^ords  the  character  of  England.  Read  "  Puck's 
Song,"  and  you  will  next  time  you  visit  them  look  on 
the  South  Dov^ns  v^ith  new  eyes  ;  but  read,  too,  all  the 
contents  of  "  Rewards  and  Fairies,"  and  "  Puck  of 
Pook's  Hill,"  and  you  will  agree  that  he  has  captured 
the  very  soul  of  every  nook  and  corner  of  Sussex.  His 
beautiful  domestic  poem  on  our  Southern  Sea-Kingdom 
has  been  well  known  for  many  years  now.  There  is  a 
finish  and  an  exact  beauty  about  its  lines  which  argue 
loving  care,  and  merely  as  a  model  of  the  musical  and 
elusive  English  language  it  would  be  difficult  to  find 
a  modern  parallel,  even  in  Tennyson  or  Swinburne. 
Mystery  and  wonder  are  here,  the  authentic  thrill  of  the 
soul  in  the  presence  of  "  the  wooded,  dim  blue  goodness 
of  the  Weald." 

No  tender-hearted  garden  crowns^ 

No  bosomed  woods  adorn 

Our  blunt,  bow-headed,  whale-backed  Downs, 

But  gnarled  and  withered  thorn — 

Bare  slopes  where  chasing  shadows  skim, 

And  through  the  gaps  revealed 

Belt  upon  belt,  the  wooded,  dim 

Blue  goodness  oj  the  Weald, 

269 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

The  same  spirit  of  reverence  and  wonder  is  to  be 
found  in  the  work  of  George  Borrow.  This  writer, 
indeed,  resembles  Rudyard  Kipling  in  many  respects. 
It  will  be  recalled  that  the  strongest  ingredients  in  the 
nature  of  Borrow  were  wonder  and  reverence,  combined 
with  a  practical  wisdom  that  taught  him  how  to  use  his 
fists  as  well  as  his  brain.  A  telling  instance  of  this  spirit 
is  to  be  found  in  Borrow's  impression  of  Stonehenge : 

I  stood  still  for  a  moment,  and  then,  turning  off  the  road,  advanced 
slowly  towards  it  over  the  sward  ;  as  I  drew  nearer,  I  perceived  that  the 
objects  which  had  attracted  my  curiosity,  and  which  formed  a  kind  of 
circle,  were  not  trees,  but  immense,  upright  stones.  A  thrill  pervaded  my 
system ;  just  before  me  were  two,  the  mightiest  of  the  whole,  tall  as  the 
stems  of  proud  oaks,  supporting  on  their  tops  a  huge  transverse  stone, 
and  forming  a  wonderful  doorway.  I  knew  now  where  I  was,  and,  laying 
down  my  stick  and  bundle,  and  taking  off  my  hat,  I  advanced  slowly,  and 
cast  myself — it  was  folly  perhaps,  but  I  could  not  help  what  I  did — cast 
myself,  with  my  face  on  the  dewy  earth,  in  the  middle  of  the  portal  of 
giants,  beneath  the  transverse  stone. 

The  spirit  of  Stonehenge  was  strong  upon  me ! 

Kipling's  love  for  England  is  enriched  and  aided  by 
his  intimate  knowledge  of  her  past,  in  this  lies  his  pre- 
dominance over  Borrow,  Richard  Jefferies,  and  even  over 
William  Morris.  Borrow  was  filled  with  the  spirit  of 
the  English  country-side,  but  in  all  his  works  one  cannot 
find  any  trace  in  which  he  quite  grasped  the  spirit  of  the 
Birth  of  England.  It  is  the  same  with  Morris  and 
Jefferies  ;  both  of  these  great  writers  either  ignored  or 
hated  a  great  part  of  the  civilization  which  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  people  have  built  up.  But  to  Kipling  the  earth 
from  the  backyard  of  a  London  slum  dwelling  and  the 
oak  woods  in  Sussex,  from  "  whence  they  hewed  the 
keels  that  rolled  to  Trafalgar,"  are  equally  full  of 
memories. 

When  Kipling  visits  the  historic  towns  of  his  native 
land  it  is  not  merely  the  ancient  buildings  or  the  stories 
of  the  past  that  possess  him,  but  the  soul  of  the  place, 
270 


KIPLING'S  DELIGHT   IN    ODOUR 

which  is  a  subtle  mixture  of  both.  All  his  records  of 
places  and  travel  are  touched  upon  in  his  own  way,  and 
it  is  easy  to  understand  that  to  certain  temperaments  his 
way  would  be  almost  an  offence,  for  no  man  has  stronger 
prejudices,  and  no  man  was  ever  more  frank  in  the 
expression  of  them.  But  there  is  common  ground  in 
Kipling  on  which  all  may  meet,  the  common  ground  of 
human  nature  and  delight  in  natural  things.  The 
saintly  old  Lama  in  "  Kim,"  with  all  his  friends,  the 
famous  trinity,  Privates  Mulvaney,  Learoyd,  and  Ortheris, 
the  Brushwood  Boy — all  these  people,  and  many  others, 
are  treasured  in  the  house  of  memory  as  personal  posses- 
sions. The  story  of  "  Garm — a  Hostage  "  is  a  classic 
in  the  way  of  dog  stories.  And  in  sharp  contrast  with 
this  story  we  have  his  bitter  remarks  on  the  feline  in 
"  The  Cat  that  Walked  by  Himself,"  which  is  enough 
to  prove  the  author's  aversion  to  this  sly  and  stealthy 
member  of  the  genus  Fdis. 

The  morbid  side  of  Kipling's  work  and  character  can 
be  traced  in  his  "  horror  tales,"  "  The  Strange  Ride  of 
Morrowbie  Jukes,"  *'  Bertram  and  Bimi,"  "  At  the  End 
of  the  Passage,"  and  "  The  Mark  of  the  Beast."  The 
last  story,  which  tells  of  a  man  who  is  bewitched  by  a 
leper  and  becomes  the  victim  of  a  hideous  form  of 
hydrophobia,  is  said  by  the  Spectator  to  be  "  matchless  in 
horror  and  terror." 

Much  has  been  made  of  Rudyard  Kipling's  faculty  of 
observation.  It  is  said  that  his  success  is  due  to  his 
enormous  initiative,  and  to  the  fact  that  he  visualizes 
more  vividly  than  almost  any  other  writer.  He  sees  in 
a  flash.  As  you  read  his  poems  you  can  see,  you  can 
hear  the  characters  moving  about.  Take  those  stirring 
verses  in  "  The  Song  of  the  Banjo."  One  is  not  apt  to 
attribute  the  sense  of  poetic  impression  to  this  much- 
maligned  musical  instrument.  One  is  rather  apt  to  link 
it  with  that  merry  old  soul.  Uncle  Bones,  and  the  south- 
east coast,  but  Kipling  uses  its  tumpa — tumpa — tumpa — 

271 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

tumpty — tump  to  call  up  pictures  in  the  haze  of  the 
imagination  with  extraordinary  effect.  One  verse  comes 
back  to  me — its  atmosphere  at  any  rate,  and  the  lines 
about  the  "  silence  of  the  camp  before  the  fight."  This 
verse  made  the  mental  strain  that  men  suffer  w^hen 
amidst  lurking  dangers  more  real  to  me  than  any  other 
poem  I  have  read.  One  can  almost  hear  the  plaintive 
tv^ang  of  the  banjo  explaining  that  "  ten  to  one  was 
always  fair  "  to  men  who  fully  understand  that  unless  the 
"Patently  Impossible"  happens,  the  dawn  will  find 
them  cold  and  dead. 

One  thing  that  strikes  me  in  reading  Kipling  is  his 
astonishingly  keen  sense  of  smell.  I  have  read  nearly 
every  study  and  book  dealing  with  Kipling  which  has 
been  written  in  the  English  tongue,  and  I  have  noticed 
that  they  one  and  all  pass  over  this  most  important  fact. 
I  think  that  this  keen  olfactory  sense  in  the  author  must 
certainly  be  considered  in  estimating  his  powers  in  the 
art  of  story-telling.  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  it  is 
against  all  the  canons  and  laws  of  the  literary  profession 
to  launch  upon  a  discussion  about  the  human  nose  in  its 
relation  to  the  art  of  writing.  The  reason  why  this 
subject  is  taboo  while  so  many  other  less  savoury  subjects 
are  permitted  is  rather  difficult  to  determine.  I  once 
read  that  some  sainted  anchorite  declared  the  use  of  the 
nose  to  be  dangerous  to  the  soul,  and  from  thence  forward 
it  was  looked  upon  as  a  moral  depravity  to  use  this  organ 
with  any  freedom.  Most  people,  however,  have  ceased 
to  look  upon  smelling  as  a  sin,  but  from  the  scullery  to 
the  drawing-room  it  is  looked  upon  as  a  decidedly 
indelicate  subject.  But  since  Kipling  has  shown  such  a 
lively  and  wholesome  curiosity  about  smells  I  am  minded 
to  cast  convention  to  the  winds  and  probe  into  the 
matter. 

It  seems  to  me  that  much  of  the  beauty  and  gripping 
power  of  Kipling's  verse  and  prose  is  missed  by  ordinary 
people  like  ourselves,  who  just  sit  and  read  books  without 
272 


KIPLING'S    DELIGHT   IN    ODOUR 

ever  first  having  lived  books.  This  statement  deserves 
and  needs  a  little  fuller  explanation.  In  the  first  place 
it  is  as  well  to  point  out  that  Kipling's  readers  are  not 
confined  to  the  mere  literary  world;  they  are  not 
confined  to  the  mere  novel-reading  public,  in  fact  his 
books  travel  to  parts  where  the  literary  man  and  the 
novel-reader  very  seldom  penetrate.  You  will  find  his 
books  in  Canadian  railway  bunk-houses,  barrack-room 
lockers,  tramp  steamers,  and  mixed  with  the  cooking 
pots  and  pails  of  the  miner  and  pioneer.  What  is  it  in 
Kipling's  work  which  appeals  to  such  a  wide  and  varied 
public  ?  By  what  magic  does  Kipling  bewitch  the 
literary  man  with  fastidious  senses,  the  uncritical  novel- 
reader,  or  the  illiterate  soldier  with  ease  ?  It  is  difficult 
to  answer  such  questions,  but  beyond  a  doubt  Kipling 
has  made  use  of  certain  "  tricks  "  to  capture  all  classes 
of  readers.  He  has  moved  the  emotions  and  imagination 
of  some  people  with  rhythm  ;  others  he  has  enticed  with 
certain  qualities  of  strength  and  coarseness,  as  displayed 
in  the  ugly  story  "  The  Mark  of  the  Beast  "  ;  he  catches 
the  ear  of  the  soldier  with  his  ribaldry  and  humour. 
For  those  who  are  not  attracted  by  his  humour  or  his 
horror,  he  paints  wonderful  word  pictures  of  India  and 
its  native  life.  Those  wonderful  chapters  in  "  Kim  " 
are  only  so  many  gorgeous  pictures,  cunningly  con- 
structed to  attract  the  eyes  of  the  reader.  Kipling  is 
determined  to  let  no  class  of  reader  escape  his  attention 
— ^he  fishes  with  a  net  of  the  finest  mesh.  If  neither 
touch  nor  hearing  nor  sight  moves  his  reader  he  fills  his 
nostrils  with  odours  to  stir  up  old  memories.  In  "  Kim  " 
you  can  smell — ^how  gloriously  does  he  talk  of  smells — 
those  smells  that  mean  everything  to  the  questing  man  ! 
Above  all  other  smells  Kipling  ranks  the  smells  of  the 
camp  fire,  and  of  melting  fat,  which  call  up  (how  vividly !) 
the  cooking  of  the  evening  meal  and  the  steaming  billy. 
With  a  puff  of  dung-fed  camp-smoke  and  a  whiff  of 
burnt  cordite,  he  can  transport  the  soldier,  in  a  second, 

s  273 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

from  Alclershot  to  the  sixteen-year-old  battlefields  of 
South  Africa.  These  flashes  of  memory  aided  by  smell 
are  wonderful.  Through  smell  we  achieve  a  sense  of 
the  past  ;  the  secret  members  of  the  mind  are  roused  to 
life  and  memory. 

In  South  Africa  the  scent  of  the  wattle  awakes  in  the 
New  South  Wales  trooper  memories  of  his  native  land. 
''  Smells  are  surer  than  sights  or  sounds  .  .  .  they 
whisper  old  man  come  back,"  he  sings.  In  this  poem, 
"  Lichtenberg "  C'The  Five  Nations  "),  Kipling  has 
gone  out  of  the  way  to  appeal  to  the  olfactory  sense  of 
the  reader.  Again,  does  not  the  time-expired  soldier  in 
"  Mandalay "  recall  all  the  burnished  East  by  those 
"  spicy  garlic  smells  "  of  Burma  ?  Other  odours  men- 
tioned by  Kipling  are  the  smell  of  camel — pure  camel, 
one  whiff  of  which  is  all  Arabia  ;  "  the  smell  of  rotten 
eggs  at  Hitt,  on  the  Euphrates,  where  Noah  got  the 
pitch  for  the  Ark  "  ;  the  flavour  of  drying  fish  in  Burma, 
and  "  the  smell  of  the  Barracks  "  which  every  soldier 
knows.  Of  course  there  are  other  smells  less  material  in 
their  appeal,  which  almost  come  within  the  range  of  this 
short  note.  One  is  the  first  chill  smell  of  the  mountains, 
especially  when  one  reaches  the  heights  towards  sunset 
or  in  the  night.  To  gain  knowledge  of  this  experience 
the  reader  must  turn  to  the  wanderings  of  Kim  and  the 
Lama  in  the  huddled  mountains  of  the  Sewalik  range. 
Another  is  the  odour  of  the  forest  or  the  jungle,  which 
is  to  be  gained  from  the  ^'  Jungle  Books."  It  has  been 
said  that  "  of  all  the  smells  in  the  world,  the  smell  of 
many  trees  is  the  sweetest  and  the  most  fortifying."  It 
calls  up  in  mankind  dim  unconscious  memories  of 
primeval  life,  when  men  were  not  pillowed  and  propped 
out  of  all  possibility  of  leading  a  free  and  open  life. 

The  smells  of  travel  are  indeed  innumerable.  I  have 
quoted  in  another  chapter  of  this  volume  an  article  from 
the  Times  which  gives  some  unique  odours,  which,  once 
encountered,  linger  in  the  voyager's  nostrils  for  evermore. 
274 


KIPLING'S   DELIGHT   IN    ODOUR 

Read  through  ''  Kim  "  again,  and  you  will  find  that 
Kipling  knows  the  odours  of  India  as  a  man  knows  the 
woman  he  loves.  The  chapter  in  which  Kim  and  the 
Lama  fall  in  with  the  shuffling  procession  on  the  Grand 
Trunk,  is  a  perfect  study  in  the  super-refinement  of 
the  five  senses,  particularly  vision  and  smell.  Kipling's 
feeling  for  the  East  is  filled  out  and  made  richer  by  his 
cultured  delight  in  odour.  His  aesthetic  appreciation 
of  landscape,  colour  and  odour  are  so  subtly  and  in- 
timately blended  that  the  picture  he  gives  you  of  a  place 
is  quite  remarkably  vivid  and  concrete.  What,  for 
instance,  could  be  more  striking  than  this  passage  from 
"  Kim  "  :  "  Then  the  night  fell,  changing  the  touch  of  the 
air,  drawing  a  low,  even  haze,  like  a  gossamer  veil  of  blue, 
across  the  face  of  the  country,  and  bringing  out,  keen  and 
distinct,  the  smell  of  the  wood-smoke  and  cattle,  and  the 
good  scent  of  wheaten  cakes  cooked  on  ashes."  The 
reader  will  note  too,  that  Mr.  Lurgan's  shop  had  the 
smell  of  "  all  the  temples  of  all  the  East  "  and  that  a 
"  whifi  of  musk,  a  puff  of  sandalwood,  and,  a  breath 
of  sickly  jessamine-oil  "  caught  Kim's  opened  nostrils 
and  made  him  forget  that  he  was  a  Sahib.  Kipling  has 
also  noted  that  the  smell  of  the  "  yellow  Chinese  paper  " 
on  which  the  Lama  traced  the  Great  Wheel  with  all 
"  the  heavens,  hells,  and  chances  of  human  life  "  was 
like  nothing  else  in  the  world.  But  the  greatest  smells 
of  all  are  the  "  delicious  earth  smells  "  which  are  best 
after  rain.  "  Mother  Earth,"  says  Kipling  "  holds  the 
seed  of  all  life." 

I  remember  now  (as  one  remembers  little  things  at 
such  times)  that,  when  I  first  read  Rudyard  Kipling's 
articles  on  his  visit  to  the  French  lines  *  in  the  Daily 
Telegraph,  there  came  to  me  the  odour  of  long-forgotten 
camp  smells,  and  the  memory  of  comrades'  voices  that 
startled   over   the  long  lapse   of  years.     For   keen   and 

*  "  France  at  War,"  by  Rudyard  Kipling.  Daily  Telegraph,  September 
6,  8,  10,  13,  15,  17,  1915. 

275 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

intimate  understanding  of  those  odours  through  which 
men  achieve  flashes  of  the  past,  where  shall  we  look  for 
Kipling's  equal  ?  What  highways  and  byways  of  memory 
has  he  not  opened  up  for  us  with  a  few  happy  strokes  ! 
He  pitches  his  tent,  lights  his  camp  fire  (you  can  smell  it 
burning),  and  invites  the  reader  to  smoke  a  pipe  with 
him  over  the  cheerful  blaze.  The  passage  in  "  France 
at  War "  which  displays  how  subtly  and  intimately 
Kipling  has  blended  his  aesthetic  appreciation  of  odour 
and  a  wonderful  knowledge  of  the  soldier  is  too  long  to 
quote  in  full,  but  I  must  call  attention  to  the  following 
lines : 

The  day  closed  (after  an  amazing  interlude  in  the  chateau  of  a  dream, 
which  was  all  glassy  ponds,  stately  trees,  and  vistas  of  white  and  gold  saloons. 
The  proprietor  was  somebody's  chauffeur  at  the  Front,  and  we  drank  to  his 
excellent  health)  at  a  little  village  in  a  twilight  full  of  the  petrol  of  many 
cars  and  the  wholesome  -flavour  of  healthy  troop.  There  is  no  better  guide 
to  camp  than  one's  own  thoughtful  nose  ;  and  though  I  poked  mine  every- 
where, in  no  place  then  or  later  did  it  strike  that  vile  betraying  taint  of 
underfed,  unclean  men.     And  the  same  with  the  horses. 

Can  any  man  who  has  once  lived  the  life  of  a  soldier 
be  deaf  to  the  force  of  these  lines  ?  Some  phrases 
possess  an  intense  slice  of  youth  and  vehemence :  try 
"  the  wholesome  flavour  of  healthy  troops,"  think  it, 
pronounce  it,  and  you  will  see  in  the  flash  of  those  words 
tens  of  thousands  of  bronzed  soldiers  marching.  Above 
the  steady  champing  of  the  marching  feet,  you  will  hear 
the  insolent  throbbing  and  staccato  detonations  of  the 
drums,  and  you  will  smell  the  odours  of  the  camp :  the 
burning  of  wood,  the  cooking  of  the  evening  meal,  and 
the  fortifying  smell  of  well-cared-for  horses. 

Yes,  Kipling  can  still  handle  English  words  with  that 
contemptuous  ease  and  terseness  which  appeals  to  the 
unpolished  soldier,  as  well  as  to  the  bookman  in  his  study. 
His  pictures  are  sudden,  swift,  overwhelming.  Take  his 
description  of  life  in  the  trenches  on  the  mountainside 
in  "  France  at  War."  What  an  admirable  glimpse  of  a 
276 


KIPLING'S    DELIGHT    IN    ODOUR 

nation  embattled  on  a  hill.  These  articles  are  be- 
sprinkled with  such  striking  patches  as :  "  The  light,  the 
colour,  the  smell  of  wood-smoke,  pine-needles,  wet 
earth,  and  warm  mule  were  all  Himalayan."  "  The  rtien 
were  at  dinner,  and  a  good  smell  of  food  filled  the  trench. 
This  was  the  first  smell  I  had  encountered  in  my  long 
travels  uphill — a  mixed,  entirely  wholesome  flavour  of 
stew,  leather,  earth,  and  rifle-oil."  Kipling  has  a  few 
words  to  say  on  the  famous  French  75  :  "  Her  merits 
are  French — logic,  directness,  simplcity,  and  the  supreme 
gift  of  '  occasionality.'  "  "  She  is  equal  to  everything 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment."  A  Commandant  informed 
Kipling  that  the  gun  had  been  improved  upon  and 
modernized  by  inventors,  gunners  and  men  skilled  in 
mechanics  until  it  had  become  "  an  assembly  of  variations 
and  arrangements."  "  That,  of  course,"  said  Kipling, 
''  is  all  that  Shakespeare  ever  got  out  of  the  alphabet. 
The  French  artillery  make  their  own  guns  as  he  made 
his  plays.     It  is  just  as  simple  as  that." 

When  Kipling  walks  through  the  dust-heaps  of 
crumbled  houses  in  Rheims,  it  is  not  merely  the  abomina- 
tions committed  on  the  cathedral  by  the  Huns,  the 
historic  memories,  the  hundred  and  one  odours  or  the 
resolute  faces  of  the  women  and  men  he  meets  that 
possess  him,  but  the  spirit  of  Rheims,  which  is  a  subtle 
compound  of  all  these  things.  The  reason  why  Kipling's 
notes  on  men  and  cities  are  so  intense,  is  that  they  are 
the  reaction  or  certain  physical  impressions  of  a  per- 
sonality, in  which  accurate  knowledge,  strong  convictions, 
and  the  capacity  for  deep  emotion  are  very  intimately 
interfused.  The  result  is  that  his  records  not  only  deal 
with  a  certain  aspect  of  the  scene — they  also  deal  with 
the  impressions  produced  on  the  entire  personality  of  the 
writer.  It  is  surely  an  admirable  feature  in  Kipling's 
articles  on  France  that  he  should  have  used  his  unique 
literary  gifts  for  the  purpose  of  comforting  the  French 
people.     He  reminds  them  that  such  an  historic  edifice 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

as  Rheims  Cathedral,  has  a  soul  which  all  the  high  ex- 
plosives and  incendiary  shells  that  were  ever  manufactured 
could  not  kill.  When  he  paid  a  visit  to  Rheims  where 
glorious  windows  have  been  reduced  to  glass  dust, 
gargoyles  smashed,  and  statues,  spires  and  walls  tumbled, 
Kipling  said,  "  Wherever  one  looks  at  the  tortured  site 
there  is  mutilation  and  defilement,  and  yet  it  had  never 
more  of  a  soul  than  it  has  to-day." 

Kipling  in  his  fine  poem  "  France  "  which  was  printed 
in  the  Morning  Post,  June  24,  191 3,  seems  to  have  caught 
the  very  spirit  of  the  "  New  France."  Here  is  a  good 
example  of  one  of  the  poet's  literary  forecasts.  Kipling 
foresaw  the  British  Empire  with  the  help  of  the  Gaul 
striving  together  in  a  contest  against  "  new  Keels  afloat, 
and  new  hosts  on  land."  Vividly  is  the  scene  brought 
home  to  the  reader  of  the  constant  shadow  of  war 
which  has  been  lurking  in  every  Frenchman's  heart  since 
1870: 

Now  we  watch  the  new  years  sha-pe,  wondering  if  they  hold 
Fiercer  lightnings  in  their  heart  than  we  launched  of  old. 
Now  we  hear  new  voices  rise,  question,  boast  or  gird. 
As  we  raged  [remember est  thou  P)  when  our  crowds  zvere  stirred. 

Again  there  comes  to  us  through  the  poet's  dream  a 
message  of  harmony  between  nations  ''  who  swept  each 
other's  coast,  sacked  each  other's  home  "  and  we  read 
of  the  English  and  the  Gaul  standing  "  in  linked  and 
steadfast  guard,"  thinking  only  of  the  wrath  to  come : 

Yoked  in  knowledge  and  remorse  nozo  we  come  to  rest. 
Laughing  at  old  villainies  that  Time  has  turned  to  jest  ; 
Pardoning  old  necessity  no  pardon  can  efface — 
That  undying  sin  we  shared  in  Rouen  market-place. 

Recent  events  have  proved  that  France  was  conscious 
of  the  underlying  goodness  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  blood, 
and  that  she  felt  that  the  nation  which  had  met  her  in 
open  and  honest  battle  from  the  days  of  Crecy  and 
Poictiers  would  in  the  day  of  Armageddon  stand  by  her 
278 


KIPLING'S    DELIGHT    IN    ODOUR 

side.     France  was  equally  conscious  that  such  an  alliance 
would  triumph  over  treachery  and  evil. 

How  often  it  occurs  to  us  that  there  is  something  half 
physical  in  the  reading  of  Kipling's  books  ;  it  brings  to 
one  the  same  tingling  sensation  that  is  to  be  experienced 
in  walking  in  the  wind  and  rain.  It  is  a  breathless  speed 
and  wonder.  It  does  not  feel  like  any  deliberate  process 
of  settling  down  to  read  a  book  page  by  page.  There 
is  so  much  freedom  in  the  pages,  like  the  freedom  of 
youth :  abandon,  audacity,  shuddering  and  horror, 
splendours  and  mirth.  We  feel,  when  we  have  once 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  such  a  book  as''  Kim,'  'expanded, 
powerful,  infinitely  alive.  We  draw  deep  breaths  of  the 
diamond  air  with  the  Lama,  and  the  smells  of  all  India 
rush  to  our  nostrils.  It  is  Kipling's  adoration  of  colour, 
smell,  and  action,  that  accounts  for  this ;  and  we  do  not 
realize  how  cunningly  the  author  appeals  to  the  reader's 
olfactory  sense.  In  spite  of  all  our  neglect  of  the  theory 
of  smell,  in  regard  to  life  and  literature,  the  nose  is  always 
active.  This  must  be  true,  else  it  would  not  aid  our 
memory  and  warn  us  of  danger.  Here  is  a  subject  for 
which  few  people  feel  any  curiosity,  and  yet,  consider 
what  illuminating  researches  are  available  in  regard  to 
it.  Owing  to  our  apathy  about  this  subject  few  people 
are  aware  that  taste  is  a  very  limited  sense  which  only 
responds  to  "  sweet,"  "  sour,"  and  a  few  plain  nerve- 
reactions.  Often  we  wrongly  credit  to  taste  the  action 
of  the  olfactory  sense.  For  instance,  it  is  the  odour  of 
food  that  we  take  pleasure  in  while  we  are  eating  ;  it  is 
the  bouquet  of  good  wine  before  the  taste  that  is  desired 
— we  often  confuse  the  taste  and  the  smell.  Thus  it  is 
very  difficult  to  distinguish  between  what  we  think  is  the 
taste  of  cinnamon,  and  that  of  cloves,  if  the  nose  is  held. 
We  are  sorely  in  need  of  research  in  regard  to  the  pheno- 
menon of  smell.  However,  the  fact  is,  that  most  of  the 
investigation  in  this  direction  has  been  left  to  animals. 
Ordinary  citizens, even  as  you  and  I,  remain  more  ignorant 

279 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

than  a  dog  about  it,  for  it  seems  that  we  work  from  the 
complex  to  the  simple,  and  the  obvious  is  the  last  thing 
we  know.  We  are  so  exquisite  that  we  politely  deny 
that  there  even  is  such  a  thing  as  an  individual  odour 
to  ourselves  and  our  friends.  The  student  of  the  dog 
will  tell  you  that  this  animal  always  uses  the  olfactory 
organs  to  confirm  his  vision.  We  have  all  seen  a  dog 
make  a  long  and  searching  nose  investigation  of  his  master 
on  meeting  him  ;  he  is  using  his  keenly  sensitive  sense 
of  smell  to  make  certain  that  it  is  not  somebody  y^^j^  like 
his  master. 

But  Kipling  has  seen  that  he  could  not  afford  to  scorn 
the  consideration  of  this  sense.  It  is  remarkable  how 
intimate  he  has  made  some  of  his  work  with  the  aid  of 
it.  Perhaps,  some  day,  a  writer  with  the  vision  will  arise 
and  arrange  all  the  facts  of  the  sense  of  smell  in  real  order, 
and  so,  suddenly,  we  shall  take  one  more  great  step  in 
advance  on  the  great  road  of  life  and  literature.  But 
we  do  not  seem  within  measurable  distance  of  the  time 
when  this  will  be  accomplished.  Ellwood  Hendric, 
writing  on  the  olfactory  sense  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly^ 
says :  * 

Sir  William  Ramsay,  whose  ever-young  enthusiasm  leads  him  into  so 
many  of  the  secret  gardens  of  Nature,  has  found  a  relation  between  odour 
and  molecular  weight,  and  J.  B.  Haycroft  has  pointed  out  what  appears 
to  be  a  cousinship  of  odours  that  accords  with  the  periodic  law ;  another 
notes  that  odorous  substances  seem  to  be  readily  oxidized,  and  Tyndall 
showed  that  many  odorous  vapours  have  a  considerable  power  of  absorbing 
heat.  Some  work  has  been  done  in  German,  French,  and  Italian  labora- 
tories to  discover  the  nature  of  the  phenomenon  of  smell,  but  very  little 
that  is  definite  has  been  brought  out ;  only  here  and  there  a  few  facts  ; 
and  nobody  seems  to  want  to  know  them. 

And  yet  the  scientific  possibilities  are  very  fascinating,  even  if  they  are 
bewildering.  For  instance,  it  appears  that  the  sensitive  region  of  either 
nostril  is  provided  with  a  great  number  of  olfactory  nerve-cells  embedded 

*  "  The  Sense  of  SmeW,''  Atlantic  Monthly,March.  1913.    To  this  lucid 
and  searching  study  of  the  phenomenon  of  smell  I  am  indebted  for  numerous 
facts  in  this  chapter. 
280 


KIPLING'S    DELIGHT   IN    ODOUR 

in  the  epithelium.  The  olfactory  cells  are  also  connected  by  nerves  which 
extend  to  the  brain.  Well,  what  happens  when  we  smell  anything  ?  The 
olfactory  nerve-cells  are  surrounded  by  a  liquid.  What  is  the  nature  of 
that  liquid  ?  Do  the  particles  which  we  assume  to  be  the  cause  of  olfactory 
phenomena  dissolve  in  it  .?  If  they  do — and  here  we  pray  thee,  oh,  great 
Arrhenius,  come  help  us  ! — does  dissociation  take  place,  and  are  there 
smell  ions  ?  That  is,  do  fractions  of  the  molecules  of  those  bodies  that 
give  odour  dissociate  themselves  from  the  rest  and  ride  in  an  electric  stream 
to  the  nerves  ?    What  do  they  do  when  they  get  there  ? 

Of  the  unsolved  problems  in  regard  to  the  olfactory 
sense  we  have  enough  and  to  spare.  I  need  not  fill  these 
pages  with  such  questions,  but  it  is  difficult  to  understand 
and  explain  how  a  dog  can  recognize  certain  emotions 
through  his  nose.  In  "  Garm — A  Hostage,"  hy  Kipling, 
the  reader  learns  a  great  deal  about  the  "  power  of  the 
dog,"  and  it  is  noticeable  that  the  author  believes  the 
animal  capable  of  determining  fear,  good-will,  and  anger 
with  his  highly  developed  olfactory  organs.  How  the 
dog  is  able  to  recognize  these  emotions  with  the  nose 
becomes  clearer  when  we  learn  that  certain  rare  and 
subtle  odours  are  created  by  nerve-reactions : 

Now  we  know  that  nerve-reactions  have  at  least  a  chemical  accompani- 
ment. Metabolism  is  often  inhibited,  the  whole  digestive  process  is 
frequently  upset,  and  there  is  a  fair  possibility  that  the  sweat  glands  arc 
so  modified  by  emotions  that  their  processes  are  indicative  of  emotional 
reactions.  The  trained  nose  might  recognize  this.  If  we  could  cn]y 
advance  along  this  line  until  we  could  recognize  anger  and  fear,  and  possibly 
even  deceit,  consider  in  what  measure  life  would  be  augmented  ! 

To  return  to  Kipling's  story  "  Garm — A  Hostage." 
This  is  a  discerning  study  of  a  dog — a  dog  that  a  soldier 
in  a  burst  of  gratitude  to  a  friend,  gives  away,  and  finds 
that  he  has  given  away  the  better  part  of  his  life.  In 
one  of  Doctor  Bradley's  works  he  says :  "  I  can  remember 
in  Shakespeare  scarcely  any  sign  of  fondness  for  an  animal. 
He  did  not  care  for  dogs,  as  Homer  did  ;  he  even  disliked 
them,  as  Goethe  did.  There  is  no  reference,  I  believe, 
to  the  fidelity  of  the  dog  in  the  whole  of  his  works.     To 

281 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

all  that  he  loved  most  in  men  he  was  blind  in  dogs.  And, 
then  we  call  him  universal  !  "  In  this  particular  point, 
at  any  rate,  Kipling  transcends  the  greatest  of  all  writers, 
for  his  passion  for  the  dog  knows  no  restraint.  I  am 
afraid  that  "  Garm,"  the  hero  of  this  story,  is  a  dog  of 
impossible  virtue  and  intelligence.  This  wonderful 
bull-terrier  yields  a  splendid  example  of  Kipling's  method. 
His  enthusiasm  for  "  Garm  "  leads  him  to  a  wonderful, 
sympathetic  caricature  which  is  quite  outside  the  pale  of 
probability.  But  at  the  same  time  he  winds  his  way  into 
the  reader's  affections,  for  no  one  has  written  so  utterly 
and  unreservedly  of  the  mysterious  links  which  bind 
dog  and  man  in  friendship  as  Rudyard  Kipling  has. 

The  whole  situation  of  the  story  of  "  Garm  "  is  summed 
up  in  a  poignantly  moving  poem  : 

Buy  a  pup  and  your  money  will  buy 
Love  unflinching  that  cannot  lie — 
Perfect  passion  and  zvor ship  fed 
By  a  kick  in  the  ribs  or  a  pat  on  the  head. 


282 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  CULT  OF  "MANDALAY" 

A  noticeable  difference  between  the  soldiers  of  "  Barrack  Room 
Ballads  "  and  those  of  "  The  Five  Nations  "  :  "  Mandalay  "  : 
The  legion  of  lost  ones  :  The  virtue  and  harm  of  strong  drink  : 
John  Collins  and  Dean  Aldrich  sing  in  praise  of  good  wine  :  A 
parody  of  "  Mandalay  "  :  Lord  Brassey's  "  Voyages  and  Travels  "  : 
"  Hathis  a  pilin'  teak  "  :  Literature  and  music-hall  clap-trap  ; 
"  Tipperary  "  :  Lafcadio  Hearn's  craving  for  the  East  not  far 
removed  from  the  soldier's  longings  in  "  Mandalay." 


And  when  your  -prayers  complete  the  day, 
Darling,  your  little  tiny  hands 

Were  also  made,  I  think,  to  fray 
For  fne?i  that  lose  their  fairylands. 

HiLAiRE  Belloc 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  CULT  OF  "MANDALAY" 

There  is  one  very  noticeable  difference  between  the 
soldiers  of  "  Barrack- Room  Ballads  "  and  those  of  "  The 
Five  Nations."  Private  Mulvaney  and  his  friends  at 
frequent  intervals  celebrated  the  juice  of  the  grape  as  a 
source  of  good  cheer,  joy  and  inspiration.  They  believed, 
and  elegantly  hinted,  that  the  total  abstainer  could  not 
rise  above  mediocrity  as  a  first-class  fighting  man.  Was 
there  a  mere  water  drinker  among  that  company  of 
men  celebrated  in  the  "  Taking  of  Lungtungpen,"  when 
Mulvaney  and  his  friends  stripped  themselves  to  the 
pink,  swam  a  river,  and  fell  upon  the  village  with  the 
strength  of  demi-gods.  Turn  over  the  pages  of  "  Barrack 
Room  Ballads  "  and  see  if  you  can  find  any  traces  of  the 
unco  guid  or  the  wearers  of  phylacteries.  You  will  read 
of  Tommy  in  cells  with  a  sore  head  and  a  dry  tongue 
after  a  "  thundering  drunk  "  and  a  fight  with  a  corporal, 
also  abundant  references  to  the  wine-cup.  But  Kipling 
is  equally  conscious  of  the  evils  of  liquor  and  warns  the 
young  soldier  to  steer  clear  of  the  ''  grog-sellers'  huts  " 
where  they  sell  "  Fixed  Bay'nets  that  rots  out  your 
guts."  Nor  is  the  poet  less  conscious  of  the  dangers 
of  going  on  the  "  shout  "  when  the  cholera  comes — 
"  the  sickness  gets  in  as  the  liquor  dies  out  "  he  reminds 
the '"arf-made  recruit."  In  "Troopin'"  we  find  the 
note  of  ''  Merry  England  "  which  we  all  hope  will  sound 
for  ever  in  worship  of  healthy  and  robust  things : 

Trooping  troopin',  give  another  cheer— 

''Ere's  to  English  women  an''  a  quart  of  English  beer. 

285 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

This  note  is  in  direct  contradistinction  to  the  ex- 
pressions of  feeling  in  "  Mandalay,"  in  which  the  time- 
expired  man  in  England  hankers  for  the  old  Moulmein 
Pagoda,  and  likens  it  unto  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a 
weary  land. 

The  great  legion  of  lost  ones  and  disgraced  gentlemen 
has  inspired  many  lines  of  Kipling's  verse.  In  "  Gentle- 
men-Rankers," for  instance,  we  have  the  picture  of  the 
man  of  position  who  has  drawn  on  the  Bank  of  Futurity 
by  giving  way  to  drink,  gambling  and  bad  company. 
It  is  an  old  story  and  dozens  of  men  in  the  army  can  tell 
you  all  about  it.  The  man  who  goes  the  pace  and  goes 
it  "  blind,"  often  finds  his  way  to  the  barrack-room,  where 
most  transgressions  of  the  past  are  waived  if  he  can  ride  a 
horse,  and  do  the  work  of  a  good  soldier.  But  after  lights 
out,  when  the  "  drunken  comrade  mutters,  and  the  great 
guard-lantern  gutters,"  the  gentleman-ranker  loses  the 
calm  mastery  of  his  feelings,  and  his  brain  throws  vivid 
pictures  of  the  past  on  the  "  aching  white-washed 
ceiling."     This  is  the  inevitable  torment  of  the  outcast. 

In  the  past  there  has  been  a  little  too  much  dwelling 
upon  the  "  glorious  drunk  "  as  the  accepted  thing  in 
barrack-room  life.  All  ages  have  seen  discussions  over 
the  virtue  or  harm  of  strong  drinks,  and  the  discussions 
have  invariably  ended  in  song  and  laughter — which, 
after  all,  is  a  splendid  antidote.  Songs  and  robust 
laughter  are  two  of  the  best  things  in  the  world  and  one 
may  rely  upon  the  fact  that  those  forces — good  ale  for 
preference — which  move  one  to  song  and  laughter,  are 
not  of  necessity  evil.  But  it  must  be  understood  that 
this  is  no  excuse  for  drunkenness.  No  true  lover  of  good 
ale  is  a  drunkard,  because  he  knows  that  such  drinking 
is  but  drugging,  and  that  excess  leads  to  the  Golgotha 
of  delirium  and  death. 

From  time  antedating  written  records,  poets  have 
celebrated  wine  as  a  source  of  good  cheer,  health  and 
inspiration.  Of  temperance  in  its  true  meaning  of 
286 


THE   CULT    OF   ''MANDALAY" 

moderate  use  and  enjoyment,  John  Collins  has  sung 
charmingly : 

In  the  days  of  my  youth  Pve  been  frequently  told, 
That  the  best  of  good  things  are  despised  when  thefre  old^ 
Yet  I  own  Pm  so  lost  in  the  modes  of  this  life, 
As  to  "prize  an  old  friend,  and  to  love  an  old  wife  ; 
And  the  first  of  etijoyments,  thro^  life  has  been  mine, 
To  regale  an  old  friend  with  a  flask  of  old  wine. 

I  cannot  resist  adding  the  famous  lines  by  Dean  Aldrich 
which  represent  a  point  of  view  which  is  the  outcome 
of  wide  knowledge,  a  point  of  view  which  this  robust 
old  soul  held  with  unmistakable  sincerity  and  con- 
viction : 

If  all  he  true  that  I  do  thifik, 
There  are  five  reasons  we  should  drink  ; 
Good  ivine — a  friend — or  being  dry — 
Or  lest  we  should  be  by  and  by — 
Or  any  other  reason  why. 

Some  say  that  wine  is  the  servant  of  the  devil.  This  is 
the  theme  of  the  weakling  and  the  vulgar.  It  is  not  true. 
Wine,  laughter,  and  song,  are  sound  and  human  things 
and  you  may  depend  upon  it  that  wherever  healthy  men 
foregather  they  will  clink  their  glasses  in  token  of  all  that 
goes  with  good  comradeship.  But,  mind  you,  the  true 
lover  of  the  cup  does  not  get  drunk  ;  he  knows  only  too 
well  that  the  sot  and  the  drunkard  are  shut  out  from  the 
companionship  of  all  honest  men.  I  further  suggest 
that  the  drunkard  is  a  coward,  who  only  drinks  to  lull 
his  senses  or  to  forget  his  responsibilities. 

According  to  Kipling's  early  soldier  poems  Tommy, 
under  the  Indian  sun,  is  a  high-spirited  creature,  usually 
arrogant  and  brassy.  He  has  an  educated  taste  for  strong 
drink,  an  eye  for  "  the  girls,"  and  is  strong  on  loot  and 
practical  jokes.  For  the  civilian  he  has  an  immense  and 
far-reaching  contempt.  Back  in  his  native  land  he 
becomes  forlorn  ;  the  English  rain  and  the  muddy 
pavements  sap  his  strength  ;    he  slinks  meekly  out  of 

287 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

theatres  and  "  public  'ouses  "  feeling  conscious  that  he  is 
closely  watched  by  the  stay-at-home  lack-spirits  and 
kill-joys.  He  grows  mopey  and  homesick  for  the  spacious 
freedom  of  the  East,  with  its  sunshine  and  its  bewitching 
''  tinkly  "  temple  bells.  This  at  least  is  the  impression 
of  Tommy  that  is  to  be  gleaned  from  Kipling's 
"  Mandalay."  It  seems  to  be  the  old  story,  written 
in  the  Cockney  vernacular,  of  that  Eden  which  all  mortals 
lose  at  some  time  or  other,  and  hanker  after  for  the  rest 
of  their  days. 

When  we  come  to  look  through  ''  The  Five  Nations  " 
we  find  that  not  one  of  the  "  Service  Songs  "  is  associated 
with  the  immemorial  charm  of  the  cup.  No  one  would 
care  to  detract  from  the  glories  of  the  past,  or  to  scorn 
Mulvaney  *  and  his  convivial  comrades,  some  of  whom 
died  for  us,  unknown  and  unremembered,  but  on  com- 
paring these  two  volumes  which  cover  the  period  from 
1888  to  1903,  we  behold  an  improvement  in  the  private 
soldier's  manner  and  outlook  on  life  which  is  surprising. 
Kipling's  soldiers  in  "  The  Five  Nations  "  no  longer 
divorce  old  barren  reason  and  take  the  daughter  of  the 
vine  to  spouse.  They  have  become  more  thoughtful 
and  display  powers  and  abilities  which  are  not  found 
in  the  soldiers  of  the  past.     Life  teaches  them  that  there 

*  Readers  may  remember  that  a  person  answering  to  the  description  of 
Mulvaney,  but  bearing  the  name  of  William  MacManus,  was  reported  to 
be  living  in  San  Francisco  some  years  ago.  He  is  said  to  have  called  Kipling 
"a  plucky,  inquisitive  little  fellow  in  the  civil  service,  who  passed  his 
bottle  around  among  us  privates,  and  then  got  us  to  tell  the  yarns  of  the 
barrack- room."  The  American  press  made  much  ado  over  this  statement, 
and  Kipling  was  asked  to  give  his  judgment  as  to  the  veracity  of  the  claim, 
of  Private  MacManus.     The  following  reply  was  made  by  Kipling  : 

"  Naulakha,  Brattleboro',  Vt. 
"7««^I4, '95 
"  Dear  Sir, — In  reply  to  your  letter  of  the  nth  instant,  I  can  only  say 
that  I  know  nothing  of  the  Private  McManus  mentioned  in  the  cutting  you 
forward. 

"  At  the  same  time,  I  should  be  loth  to  interfere  with  a  fellow-rcmancer's 

288 


THE   CULT   OF    "MANDALAY" 

is  more  joy  in  work  and  achievement  than  in  the  wild 
and  careless  cry  of  the  soldier  in  "  Mandalay  "  who 
longs  for  the  serene  spots  east  of  Suez  where  the  de- 
calogue is  unknown,  and  there  is  unlimited  scope  for 
"  raising  "  and  slaking  a  thirst. 

Some  years  ago  a  poet  with  a  Burmese  name,  Moung 
Win,  sent  to  the  Pioneer  of  Allahabad  his  own  impressions 
of  "  Mandalay,"  as  contrasted  with  Kipling's.  It  looks 
as  if  the  magic  words  "  East  o'  Suez  "  are  not  quite  so  full 
of  allurement  for  the  Tommy  as  Kipling  would  have  us 
believe.  I  quote  a  verse  or  two  of  the  parody,  which,  by 
the  way,  is  headed  :    "  From  T.  Atkins,  Mandalay  "  : 

They  talks  a  lot  of  Burmah,  and  they  talks  oj  Mandalay, 
And  to  folks  who  ^averCt  bin  there,  it's  a  decent  'place,  they  say  ; 
But  Pve  done  three  years  in  Burmah,  andl  ve  lived  in  Mandalay, 
And  thank  Gawd  and  all  the  -prophets  that  I  ^averCt  got  to  stay . 

On  the  road  from  Mandalay, 
Which  ainH  arf  the  place  they  say. 

Where  those  bloomin'  big  mosquitoes  tear 
And  tease  you  night  and  day. 
On  the  road  from  Mandalay, 
Where  the  gentle  cobras  play. 

From  the  place  where  ftyin^  fishes 
Don't  exist — as  some  folk  say  ! 

trade,  and  if  there  be  such  a  person  as  Private  McManus,  and  if  he  believes 
himself  to  be  the  original  of  Terence  Mulvaney,  and  can  tell  tales  to  back 
his  claim,  we  will  allow  that  he  is  a  good  enough  Mulvaney  for  the  Pacific 
Slope,  and  wait  developments. 

"  At  the  same  time,  I  confess,  his  seems  to  me  rather  a  daring  game  to 
play,  for  Terence  alone  of  living  men  knows  the  answer  to  the  question, 
*  How  did  Dearsley  come  by  the  palanquin  f '  It  is  not  one  of  the  questions 
that  agitate  the  civilized  world,  but  for  my  own  satisfaction  I  would  give 
a  good  deal  to  have  it  answered.  If  Private  McManus  can  answer  it 
without  evasions  or  reservations,  he  will  prove  that  he  has  some  small  right 
to  be  regarded  as  Mulvaney's  successor.  Mulvaney  he  cannot  be.  There 
is  but  one  Terence,  and  he  has  never  set  foot  in  America,  and  never  will. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  RuDYARD  Kipling." 
T  289 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

When  yer  cheeks  become  like  cold  boiled  fork 

An*  enteric* s  runnin*  free, 
The  cry  for  "  East  o'  Suez  " 

Somehow  dorCt  appeal  to  me  ; 
An*  Pd  give  yer  Thebaw's  treasure — 

If  I  *ad  it  in  my  *and — 
For  a  fenny  ride  on  a  *bus,  outside, 

With  an  *ousemaid  down  the  Strand. 

On  the  road  from  Mandalay 
Where  we  cursed  the  livelong  day. 

Where  the  rain  comes  down  like  thunder 
When  the  *eavens  feels  that  way. 
On  the  road  from  Mandalay 
BurnirC  shine,  then  sodden  grey, 

*Bout  the  dawn  there  seems  some  blunder. 
For  there  ain*t  no  bloomin*  bay  / 

***** 

Tes,  ifs  all  a  bloomin*  sell. 

Rubies,  loot,  and  girls  as  well. 

And  if  you*  re  bound  for  Burmah,  don*t  you  swaller  all  they  tell. 

Lawd,  what  do  they  understand 

Of  this  Gawd-forsaken  land — 

When  at  times  it  blows  that  *eavy 

That  it  -fills  yer  up  with  sand  ; 
Out  they  jumps  upon  the  strand. 

Stops  a  day  and  *ears  the  band. 
Then  they* re  o^  again  to-morrow 

With  their  note-books  in  their  *and. 
And  we  stay  to  *ear  the  Dead  March 

Practised  daily  by  that  band. 

On  the  road  from  Mandalay, 

Which  ain*t  arf  the  place  they  say, 
Thank  the  Lawd  and  all  the  prophets  that 

Pm  off— at  last  away — 
On  the  road  from  Mandalay 

Spicy  smells  an*  all — good  day  ; 
For  Pve  wrote  and  told  my  Polly  that  Pm  comin*  *ome  to  stay. 

How  is  it  that  Kipling's  little  Burma  maiden  could 
sit  "  looking  lazy  at  the  sea  ?  "  Lord  Brassey  says  in  his 
290 


THE   CULT   OF   "MANDALAY" 

"  Voyages  and  Travels  "  that  the  navigation  from  the 
sea  to  Moulmein  by  the  Salwen  is  far  more  difficult  than 
the  passage  up  to  Rangoon.  However  it  is  a  consolation 
to  find  that  the  hathis  were  to  be  seen  a  "  pilin'  teak  " 
when  he  arrived  there  : 

The  elephants  lift,  roll,  and  push  the  logs  of  timber  to  any  part  of  the 
yard.  They  pile  it  up  into  stacks  high  above  their  heads,  seizing  one  end 
of  a  log  with  their  trunk,  placing  it  on  a  pile  of  timber,  and  then  taking 
the  other  end  of  the  log  and  pushing  it  forward,  finally  placing  it  on  their 
heads  and  sending  it  into  its  place.  They  work  undisturbed,  amid  the  buzz 
of  circular  saws  and  machinery,  where  it  would  seem  almost  impossible  for 
animals  of  such  proportions  to  escape  destruction.  They  carry  their 
intelligence  to  the  point  of  most  rigidly  enforcing  the  rights  of  labcvr. 
Nothing  will  persuade  an  elephant  to  do  a  stroke  of  work  after  he  has  heard 
the  workman's  dinner-bell  during  the  hour  of  midday  rest,  to  which  he 
rightly  considers  himself  entitled.  Their  docility  and  intelligence  are 
fully  on  a  level  with  that  of  the  human  workman,  with  whose  efforts  their 
own  are  combined.  No  less  than  two  thousand  elephants  were  fcimerly 
in  the  yard  of  the  Bombay  and  Burmah  Company.  Stesm  machinery  is 
now  rapidly  superseding  elephants. 

Much  extravagant  praise  has  been  bestowed  upon 
"  Mandalay."  Mr.  Cyril  Falls,  in  his  critical  study  of 
Kipling,  says  that  "  no  poem  in  English  written  in  the 
last  five-and-twenty  years  is  known  so  widely,  has  so 
taken  hold  upon  the  imaginations  of  English-speaking 
people."  I  am  not  inclined  to  think  this  statement 
would  bear  investigation.  Stevenson's  exquisite 
"  Epitaph,"  with  its  popularly  accepted  opening  line 
"  under  the  wide  and  starry  sky "  is  quite  as  famous. 
Sir  A.  Conan  Doyle's  "  Song  of  the  Bow,"  "  England, 
My  England,"  by  Henley,  and  "  Drake's  Drum,"  by 
Henry  Newbolt  may  all  be  mentioned  as  poems  of  wide 
popularity  fit  to  compare  with  "  Mandalay."  And  the 
"  Ballad  of  Reading  Gaol "  has  been  more  extensively 
quoted  in  the  press  of  England  and  America.  But  when 
Mr.  Falls  claims  that  the  line  : 

AtC  the  dawn  comes  up  like  thunder  outer  China  ^crost  the  Bay  ! 

291 


RUDYARD    KIPLING 

"  is  the  greatest  and  most  inspired  line  in  contemporary 
poetry  "  he  astonishes  and  perplexes  me. 

We  are  all  prepared  to  admit  that  Kipling  can  at 
times  write  real  poetry  and  that  he  has  rare  imaginative 
qualities,  but  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  a  single  line 
with  such  ugly  colloquialisms  as  "  outer  "  and  "  'crost  " 
would  be  accepted  as  poetry  at  all.  ''  Mandalay  "  is 
inspired  doggerel,  not  poetry.  It  is,  indeed,  surprising 
that  Mr.  Falls  should  deliberately  ignore  many  lines  of 
greater  beauty  in  Kipling's  wide  range  of  verse.  Take, 
for  instance,  the  oft  quoted  lines : 

One  stone  the  more  swings  into  place 

In  that  dread  Temple  of  Thy  worth. 
It  is  enough,  that  through  Thy  Grace, 

I  saw  nought  common  on  Thy  Earth, — 

The  highest  vision  and  deepest  word  of  Rudyard 
Kipling  are  not  to  be  found  in  ''  Mandalay  "  but  in 
such  poems  as  "  L'Envoi "  of  the  ballads  and  the  very 
beautiful  lines  in  "  The  Recall."  His  ballads  abound  with 
lines  of  compelling  beauty,  such  as  "  We  have  ridden  the 
low  moon  out  of  the  sky,  our  hoofs  drum  up  the  dawn." 

Mr.  Frederick  Niven  once  remarked  that  if  you 
mentionKipling  to  the  man  who  reads,  he  will,  ten  to  one, 
spout  with  gusto  the  story  of  a  Cockney  soldier's  cheek 
on  the  road  to  Mandalay.  Or  again,  if  you  speak  about 
Kipling  to  the  young  man  who  reads  nothing  but  the 
morning  papers  he  will  fire  off  at  you,  "  O,  it's  Tommy 
this  and  Tommy  that  "  which  is  invariably  followed  up 
by  a  song  about  "  Tommy,  Tommy  Atkins,  you're  a 
good  'un,  heart  and  hand,"  which  shows  that  he  is  unable 
to  distinguish  the  difference  between  literature  and 
music-hall  clap-trap.  A  man  with  any  critical  faculty 
would  not  dream  of  mentioning  these  two  songs  in  the 
same  breath.  It  is  much  the  same  thing  over  again 
with  the  youth  who  gets  up  and  sings  "  Mandalay  "  at 
the  smoking  concert.  It  generally  leads  him  to  such 
292 


THE   CULT   OF   "MANDALAY" 

sentimental  gush  as  "  Meet  me  to-night  in  Dreamland." 
Of  course  we  must  remember  that  songs  are  not  always 
made  by  the  poet  or  the  musician  ;  they  are  often  made 
by  the  people  who  sing  them.  We  have  an  instance 
of  this  in  "  Tipperary  "  which  was  certainly  created 
by  Tommy.  For  this  reason  it  is  foolish  to  speak  con- 
temptuously of  music-hall  songs.  Some  of  these  ditties 
transmit  to  the  uncultured  many  what  the  red  rose  of 
Ploughman  Burns  or  Wordsworth's  hoard  of  golden 
daffodils  transmit  to  the  cultured  few.  By  the  cus- 
tomary method,  "  Tipperary "  would  have  flourished 
for  a  few  weeks  and  then  we  should  have  heard  no  more 
of  it.  It  would  have  passed  to  that  abode  of  misery 
which  is  stored  with  forgotten  popular  songs.  To  hear 
it  being  played  on  a  hurdy-gurdy  six  months  after  its 
"  fall  "  would  have  irritated  one.  But  the  soldier  has 
charged  this  song  with  the  drum  taps  of  his  heart  ;  he 
has  done  for  it  what  the  poet  or  musician  with  all  the 
secrets  of  rhythm  at  their  command  could  not  have 
done  ;  he  has  bestowed  upon  those  foolish  words  the 
spirit  of  heroic  deeds.  For  countless  numbers  of  our 
citizens  those  trivial  lines  of  "  Tipperary "  will  read 
like  passages  from  a  road-book  of  the  four  days'  battle 
near  Mons.  What  a  flood  of  association  streams  out  of 
this  tune.  It  is  as  eloquent  to  the  soldier  as  the  faces 
of  familiar  friends — aye,  no  few  of  them  faces  cold  and 
white  that  had  finished  with  all.  The  words  will  thrill 
the  returned  service  man  through  with  an  indescribable 
imaginative  ecstasy:  as  Justin  McCarthy  sang  of  old 
Omar's  song,  the  soldier  can  say  "  My  youth  lies  buried 
in  thy  verses."  "  Tipperary  "  is  by  this  time  full  of  old 
memories  for  those  who  marched  out  to  war  to  its  strains  ; 
it  brings  back  to  them  the  sputtering  and  stuttering  of 
the  Maxims,  the  blaring  of  bugles,  the  blood  and  the 
slime  of  the  trenches.  Thus  such  a  war  song  as  this 
one — a  song  that  grows  out  of  Tommy's  elusive  soul — is 
the  best  song  of  all. 

293 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 

I  am  afraid  that  I  have  meandered  and  loitered  un- 
necessarily whilst  trying  to  trace  the  evolution  of 
"  Tipperary,"  but  it  has  provided  me  with  such  a  jolly 
peg  on  which  to  hang  an  argument.  And  that  argument 
is  that  a  song  must  either  be  charged  with  the  genius 
of  the  poet  or  the  spirit  of  the  people  before  it  can  be 
looked  upon  as  great.  This  brings  us  back  to  "  Mandalay" 
and  its  position  in  the  works  of  Rudyard  Kipling. 

In  the  first  place  it  could  not  be  called  a  great  poem — 
the  beauty  of  some  images  in  it  cannot  make  one  forget 
the  note  of  the  banjo  ;  it  is  none  the  less  an  ash-heap  that 
a  few  diamonds  glitter  in  it.  It  is  not  a  great  song  if  it 
be  compared  to  such  as  "  The  Minstrel  Boy,"  and  it  is 
scarcely  fair  to  Kipling  to  contrast  one  of  his  barrack- 
room  ditties  with  such  a  classic  effort.  And  yet  no  one 
can  read  this  tale  of  a  soldier's  longing  for  the  "  things 
durable  and  invisible  "  without  perceiving  that,  in  spite 
of  its  uncouth  words  and  occasional  arbitrariness  of 
rhythm,  it  must  for  ever  rest  between  the  impassable 
barriers  of  true  poetry  and  clever  doggerel.  It  is  a  most 
unsatisfactory  position  in  which  to  leave  little  Supi- 
yaw-lat  and  her  soldier  lover,  I  must  admit,  but  there 
is  no  other  way  out  of  the  difficulty. 

In  reading  "  Mandalay  "  we  are  struck,  first  of  all, 
with  the  remarkable  break  in  Kipling's  customary 
expression  of  feeling,  a  break  which  reveals  his  Oriental 
leanings,  and  the  deep  impression  that  the  barbaric  and 
natural  life  of  India  has  made  on  him.  Kipling  would 
be  most  indignant  if,  when  criticizing  his  work,  some  one 
should  call  him  a  "  Decadent."  Certainly  in  "  Man- 
dalay "  he  sails  extremely  close  to  the  wind.  The  school 
of  French  writers  who  have  been  regarded  as  "  De- 
cadents "  and  who  have,  without  doubt,  exercised  some 
influence  on  him,  were  infected  with  a  strange  partiality 
for  coloured  women,  alien  ideas,  and  exotic  oddness. 

It  is,  of  course,  the  primitive  impulses  in  the  "  Tommy," 
which  drive  him  to  crave  for  the  savage  splendour  and 
294 


THE    CULT   OF   "MANDALAY" 

paganism  of  the  East,  but  his  fancy  for  the  Burmese 
woman  is  a  different  matter.  He  declares  as  boldly 
as  ever  Baudelaire  has  in  the  past,  his  preference  for  the 
Oriental  woman.  The  Chelsea  housemaid  holds  no 
fascination  over  him,  and  he  rails  against  all  civilization. 
In  these  characteristics  our  "  Tommy "  seems  to  be 
in  accord  with  that  quixotic  genius  Lafcadio  Hearn, 
whose  love-affairs  with  Creoles  and  Orientals,  and  certain 
lapses  from  conventional  standards,  must  place  him  with 
the  "  Decadents."  The  English  soldier's  craving  for  the 
sunshine  and  the  East  is  not  far  removed  from  Lafcadio 
Hearn's  lifelong  pilgrimage  towards  the  unattainable. 
"  Mandalay "  is  only  Hearn's  creed  transmuted  into 
the  language  of  Ratcliff  Road.  Here  is  a  passage  from 
one  of  Hearn's  letters  which  is  an  exact  expression  of  the 
soldier's  feelings :  "  You  are  improving  yourself  out 
of  the  natural  world.  I  want  to  get  back  amongst  the 
monkeys  and  the  parrots,  under  a  violet  sky  and  an 
eternally  lilac  and  lukewarm  sea — where  clothing  is 
superfluous.  .  .  .  Civilization  is  a  hideous  thing.  Blessed 
is  savagery  !  " 

This  is  the  same  old  story  of  the  lost  Eden  over  which 
all  mortals  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  dreaming.  It  is 
not  often  that  Kipling  turns  aside  from  the  path  of 
masculine  forcefulness  to  bemoan  the  fact  that  life 
becomes  more  complex  and  artificial  each  year.  It  is 
true  that  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm  in  the  "  Song  of  the 
Cities,"  he  thinks  of  Rangoon  not  as  rich  in  trade  but  as 
rich  in  "  silk-clad  lovers,"  but  it  is  seldom  that  such 
sentiment  finds  its  way  into  his  work.  For  the  most 
part  we  move  along  the  wonted  lines  of  riotous  strength 
and  excessive  animal  vigour. 


29s 


APPENDICES 


I 

A  LIST  OF  PHOTOGRAPHS,  CARICA- 
TURES, AND  VARIOUS  DRAWINGS 
OF  RUDYARD  KIPLING 

ACADEMY,  December  9,  1899.  A  caricature  entitled  "The 
Poet's  Goose-Step." 

BOOKMAN,  August  191 1.  "  Rudyard Kipling  takes  a  blooming 
day  aht  on  the  blasted  'eath  with  Britannia,  his  gurl."  From 
"  Poets'  Corner,"  by  Max  Beerbohm. 

BOOKMAN,  January  1903.  A  painting  by  Hon.  John  Collier. 
I  am  indebted  to  the  Hon.  John  Collier  for  the  information  that 
he  has  painted  two  portraits  of  Kipling.  The  first  was  exhi- 
bited at  the  New  Gallery  in  1891,  a  head  and  shoulders  in  white 
jacket.  The  second  was  exhibited  at  the  New  Gallery  in 
1 90 1,  and  represents  the  author  standing  before  a  fireplace  in 
a  blue  serge  suit. 

BYSTANDER,  August  3,  1904.  The  author  in  Indian  costume. 
By  S.  Spurrier. 

BYSTANDER,  July  6,  1910.     Black-and-white  drawing. 

CAPTAIN,  April  1907.  Photo,  Reginald  Haines.  Incorporated 
in  an  article  on  Rudyard  Kipling  at  school.  Photographs  of 
the  United  Services  College,  the  College  Museum,  the  house 
in  Earl's  Court  Road  where  "  The  Light  that  Failed  "  was 
written,  and  the  printing  works  at  Bideford  at  which  the 
college  magazine  was  produced  are  also  given  in  this  article. 
A  device  which  includes  a  quill  pen,  inkpot,  and  drawing  of  the 
author  forms  a  colophon  to  this  article. 

299 


APPENDIX  I 

CJSSELVS  MAGAZINE,  January  1901.  Photo  of  Kipling 
on  cover,  which  announces  that  "  Kim  "  commences  in  this 
part. 

CASSELrS  MAGAZINE,  May  1903.  Sketch  of  the  author  as 
Minister  for  India. 

CASSELL'S  MAGAZINE,  January  1908.  Black-and-white 
drawing  of  Kipling.  This  number  contains  "  A  Deal  in 
Cotton." 

CENTURT  MAGAZINE,  October  1891.  Photo  by  Elliott 
and  Fry  included  with  article  by  Edmund  Gosse. 

DAILY  MAIL,  January  28,  191 5.  Photo  of  Kipling  at  the 
Mansion  House.  Taken  whilst  the  author  was  speaking  at  a 
meeting  to  further  the  formation  of  bands  as  aids  to  recruiting. 
See  also  the  Sketch  and  Daily  Mirror  for  the  same  date. 

DAILY  SKETCH,  September  5,  1914.  A  caricature  of  the 
author  by  "  Tom  Titt." 

GLASGOW  HERALD,  September  4,  1915.  Black-and-white 
drawing  of  Rudyard  Kipling  by  "  Duncan."  Mr.  Kipling's 
series  of  articles  descriptive  of  his  visit  to  the  French  lines 
appeared  in  the  columns  of  this  paper. 

GOOD  WORDS,  Is  bister  &  Co.,  April  1899.  Rudyard  Kipling, 
with  portrait,  Neil  Munro. 

GREAT  THOUGHTS,  January  19,  1907.  A  photo  by  Reginald 
Haines. 

IDLER  MAGAZINE,  December  1892.  A  portrait  in  line- 
work  by  George  Hutchinson. 

IDLER  MAGAZINE,  December  1892.  "My  First  Book,"  by 
Rudyard  Kipling.  Sketch  of  Kipling  consulting  the  newspaper 
files. 

IDLER,  June  1893.  A  sketch  of  Rudyard  Kipling  lighting  his 
pipe,  by  Scott  Rankin  in  his  series  "People  I  Have  Met." 
Matches  are  scattered  about  the  floor  and  the  words  "  The 
Light  that  Failed  "  appear  beneath  the  drawing. 

300 


APPENDIX    I 

ILLUSTRATED  LONDON  NEWS,  October  8,  1910.  A 
painting  by  Cyrus  Cuneo  depicting  the  author  seated  in  the 
midst  of  characters  out  of  his  own  books. 

LONDON  OPINION,  September  1904.  Kipling  as  caricatured 
by  Joseph  Simpson.  This  is  certainly  the  best  known  **  tin 
type  "  of  the  author.  By  a  slight  drawing  out  of  the  author's 
Titan  features,  a  deepening  of  the  conspicuous  dimple  in  his 
chin,  a  liberal  enlargement  of  the  mighty  jaw-bone,  Mr. 
Simpson  produces  a  daring  picture  of  the  author  without  any 
grotesque  "  hard  knocks." 

LONDON MJGJZINE,OctohtT  1907.  "Men  of  the  Moment," 
pictured  by  Joseph  Simpson.  A  bold  print  of  the  author, 
blue,  grey,  and  black. 

LONDON  MAGAZINE,  March  1912.  Cover  design  print  of 
Kipling  by  Joseph  Simpson. 

MORNING  LEADER,  August  2,  1906.  A  caricature  of  the 
author,  in  which  he  is  seen  playing  the  bones  to  Balfour's 
banjo. 

MUNSErS  MAGAZINE,  January  1905.  "The  Elephant 
weeps  at  the  Pyecroft  Stories."  Black-and-white  drawing  of 
Kipling  with  elephant  weeping  over  his  shoulder. 

ONLOOKER,  December  21,  1907.  Kipling,  with  one  foot  on 
a  pile  of  his  books,  is  playing  a  banjo.  The  Nobel  Prize  is 
thrust  in  his  pocket.     By  W.  P.  Starmer. 

PALL  MALL  MAGAZINE,  September  1895.  Drawing  of 
Kipling  telling  Zangwill  an  amusing  narrative  of  his  fight  with 
autograph-hunters. 

PEARSON'S  MAGAZINE,  January  1900.  Note  the  portrait 
of  the  author  by  Cecil  Aldin  on  p.  47. 

PEARSON'S  MAGAZINE,  June  1907.  Rudyard  Kipling  as  a 
"  Muddied  Oaf."  By  Tom  Browne.  Originally  published 
in  the  Sheffield  Telegraph. 

301 


APPENDIX   I 

PUNCH,  December  i8,  1907.  Kipling,  clad  in  armour,  kneeling 
at  the  feet  of  a  lady  in  classical  robes,  from  whom  he  is  receiving 
a  wreath  of  laurel.  The  artist  is  Bernard  Partridge,  and  the 
drawing  commemorates  the  award  to  the  author  of  the  Nobel 
Prize  for  literature. 

PUNCH'S  ALMANACK,  1901.  "Mr.  Punch's  Aviary  of 
Celebrities." 

PUNCH'S  ALMANACK,  1914.  Cartoon  by  Bernard  Partridge. 
Lord  Kitchener  and  Rudyard  Kipling  singing  a  duet. 

PUNCH,  June  25,  1902.  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling  recites  "  The 
Chantey  of  the  Nations." 

RE  FIE  W  OF  REVIEWS,  June  1892.  "  On  the  Brain— Rudyard 
Kipling."     Sketch  by  Phil  May  (from  Pick-Me-Up). 

REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS,  November  14,  1891.  Small  sketch  of 
Kipling. 

REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS,  April  15,  1899.  A  caricature  from 
New  Tork  Herald  representing  Kipling  making  an  effort  to 
acknowledge  the  thousands  of  congratulations  showered  upon 
him  after  his  recovery  from  a  very  serious  illness. 

REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS,  April  15,  1899.  "  The  Latest  Sketch 
of  Rudyard  Kipling."  A  full-page  drawing  from  an  etching  by 
William  Strang  from  life.  Reproduced  from  the  New  Tork 
Herald, 

SKETCH,  December  13,  1904.  A  caricature  by  H.  M.  Bateman. 
It  is  entitled  "  The  Obsession  of  the  Book  Reviewer,"  and 
depicts  Kipling,  Shaw,  Hall  Caine,  and  others  belabouring  a 
reviewer  with  their  pens  and  pencils. 

SPHERE,  August  2,  191 3.  Photo  of  the  author  seated  in  massive 
carved  oak  chair. 

STRAND  MAGAZINE  (American),  February  1915.  Cartoon 
by  Hy.  Mayer. 

T.P.'S  WEEKLT,  November   12,   1909.     A  print  by  Joseph 

Simpson. 
302 


APPENDIX   I 

T.P.^S  WEEKLT,  December  19,  1914.  A  print  in  black-and- 
white  with  soldiers  in  the  background.  This  number  contains 
an  article  on  the  author  by  Holbrook  Jackson  entitled  "  The 
Prophetic  Kipling." 

1,P:S  WEEKLT,  December  5,  1913.  Rudyard  Kipling  by 
"  Tom  Titt." 

71  f -BITS,  May  7,  1910.  A  drawing  at  the  head  of  an  article 
entitled  "  Rudyard  Kipling  as  a  Reporter." 

VANITY  FAIR,  1894.  Full-length  portrait  cartoon  by  "  Spy." 
Three  toy  soldiers  in  corner  of  portrait. 

BOOKMAN,  January  1903.  Portrait  of  the  author  in  profile 
seated  before  his  manuscript  with  pen  in  hand.  From  the 
painting  by  Sir  Philip  Burne-Jones. 


303 


II 

A    LIST    OF    MAGAZINE    ARTICLES 

DEALING  WITH  RUDYARD  KIPLING 

AND  HIS  WORK 

ACADEMT.  February  4,  1899.  Three  stanzas  addressed  by 
Rudyard  Kipling  to  an  officer  in  the  U.S.A.  Navy.  Not 
collected  but  is  printed  in  "  Mansfield's  Kipling  Pocket  Book," 
which  can  be  seen  at  the  British  Museum.  December  30, 
1899  :  "  Confessional."  May  27,  1899  •  "  Kipling  Limited  "  ; 
a  skit.  March  11,  1899  :  "  The  Unknown  Kipling."  October 
14,  1899  •  Review  of  "  Stalky  and  Co."  October  21,  1899  : 
"Brother  Joe";  humorous  verses  on  Kipling.  October  21, 
1 899  :  "  Boy,  Only  Boy  "  ;  an  examination  of  "  Stalky  and  Co." 
November  25,  1899  :  a  note  on  the  sale  of  some  early  editions 
of  Kipling's  works.  October  15,  22,  29,  1904  :  Letters  on 
Kipling's  "They."  October  24,1903:  "A  Literary  Pro- 
genitress of  Kipling."  October  3,  1903  :  Review  of  "The 
Five  Nations."  October  11,  1902:  "Nursery  Nonsense — 
for  Parents."  May  9,  1914 :  Letters  to  certain  eminent 
Authors. 

ANGLO-SAXON  REVIEW,  December  1900.  "The  Poetry 
of  the  South  African  Campaign,"  by  Arthur  Waugh. 

ARGONAUT,  August  16,  1897.  An  American  railroad  man 
finds  fault  with  various  parts  of  Kipling's  story  of  the  locomo- 
tives : 

"  Mr.  Kipling  is  a  keen  observer,  and  writes  pretty  good 
American  for  an  outsider  ;  but  if  he  had  spent  a  night  in  a 
roundhouse  with  his  ears  open  he  would  never  have  used 

304 


APPENDIX   II 

'  loco  '  for  locomotive,  or  have  omitted  the  familiar  '  engine  ' 
altogether  ;   he  would  not  have  said  *  bogie  '  when  he  meant 

*  truck ' ;  he  would  not  have  allowed  a  parlour-car  to  be  hitched 
to  a  suburban  commuter's  train  *  ahead  of  the  caboose  ' ;  he 
would    not    have    made    his    engines    speak  of  themselves  as 

*  Americans  '  (in  the  sense  of  pattern),  or  painted  his  hero 
pea-green  with  a  red  *  buffer-bar.' 

"  Further,  no  American  writer  would  use  as  a  simile  for 
brilliancy  '  a  fireman's  helmet  in  a  street  parade,'  as  few  of  his 
countrymen  have  ever  seen  a  fireman  in  a  metallic  head- 
covering  such  as  is  worn  in  London. 

"  I  suppose  it's  all  right  to  strengthen  a  situation  by  omitting 
the  guard-rail  from  an  eight-foot  bridge — it  gives  a  pleasant, 
breezy,  western,  get-there-or-bust,  nigger-on-the-safety- valve 
movement  ;  and  maybe  it's  good  fiction  to  bring  about  the 
catastrophe  with  a  hundred-pound  piglet  who  *  rolled  right 
under  the  pilot  '  and  thereby  caused  his  *  bogies  '  to  lift ;  but 
on  plain,  everyday  railroads  there  is  a  guard-rail  at  every  open 
culvert,  and  even  the  illustrations  to  Mr.  Kipling's  story  admit 
cow-catchers." 

ART  JOURNAL,  March  1909.  "  In  Kipling's  Country,"  by 
Lewis  Lusk,  pp.  65-71  and  pp.  111-116.  Many  illustrations 
by  W.  Monk,  R.E.  They  include  "Village  of  Burwash," 
"  Batemans,  Kipling's  House,"  "  View  near  Brightling," 
"Pevensey  Castle— The  Gate  of  England,"  "  Beachy  Head," 
and  "  Battle  Abbey." 

BLACKWOOD'S  MAGAZINE.  November  1891.  The  writer 
of  an  article  on  Kipling  in  this  issue  "  exhausts  himself  in 
eulogy,  and  then  proposes  that  Kipling  should  be  decorated 
with  the  Star  of  India." 

BOOK-BUTER,  March  1899.  Scribner  ;  15  cents.  "  Steven- 
son, Kipling,  and  Anglo-Saxon  Imperialism,"  by  E.  H.  Mullin. 

BOOKMAN  (American),  January  1899.  Dodd,  Mead  &  Co., 
New  York  ;  25  cents.     "  Kipling's  Women,"  by  A.  B.  Maurice. 

BOOKMAN,  October  1891.     "  The  Work  of  Rudyard Kipling." 

V  30s 


APPENDIX    II 

BOOKMAN,  January  1903.  "  Rudyard  Kipling,"  by  Wilfred 
Whitten. 

BOOKMAN,  August  1892.     Review  of  "The  Naulahka." 

BOOKMAN,  November  1902.  Revievi^  of  "Just  So  Stories," 
by  G.  K.  Chesterton. 

BOOK  MONTHLT,  November  1903.  Estimate  of  Kipling's 
verse  suggested  by  "  The  Five  Nations." 

BOOK  MONTHLY,  January  191 3.  Criticism  of  Kipling's 
verse  by  Sir  Henry  Newbolt. 

BOOKMAN  (American),  May  1897.  A  criticism  of  "  Captains 
Courageous  "  by  a  correspondent  who  writes  from  the  very 
spot  where  Kipling  made  his  studies  for  the  novel. 

BOOKMAN  (American),  March  1899.  "  Kipling's  Verse 
People,"  by  Arthur  B.  Maurice.  Also  "  Kipling's  India  "  in 
the  March,  April,  and  May  issues  for  1914. 

BRITISH  EMPIRE  REVIEW  (the  organ  of  the  British  Empire 
League),  November  1900.  "  The  Young  Queen,"  by  Rudyard 
Kipling.  A  plate,  "The  Young  Queen,"  is  inserted  between 
pp.  98  and  99. 

BRITISH  WEEKLY,  July  20,  191 1.  Note  on  "History  of 
England  "  by  Fletcher  and  Kipling. 

BRITISH  WEEKLY,  February  22,  1912.  An  interpretation  of 
"  The  Rhyme  of  the  Three  Captains  "  ;  in  the  Notes  by  "  A 
Man  of  Kent." 

CAPTAIN,  April  1907.  "  Famous  Men  at  School :  Rudyard 
Kipling,"  Adrian  Margaux.  Illustrations.  Much  information 
almost  entirely  the  result  of  original  research. 

CATHOLIC  TIMES,  April  12,  1912.  "  Mr.  Kipling  Corrected  : 
an  Answer  in  Verse  to  the  author's  six  verses  in  the  Morning 
Post  encouraging  the  Orangemen  in  their  anti-Home  Rule 
campaign." 

306 


APPENDIX    II 

CENTURT  MAGAZINE,  October  1891.  Appreciative  analysis 
of  Kipling's  genius  by  Edmund  Gosse.  With  portrait.  In 
the  issue  of  this  magazine  for  July  1899  there  is  an  article  by 
Henry  Rutgers  Marshall  on  "  Rudyard  Kipling  and  Racial 
Instinct." 

CENTURT  MAGAZINE,  January  1909.  "A  Lost  Kipling 
Poem."  April  1909:  "The  Foreloper."  Complete  version 
of  Kipling's  verses.  Six  lines  of  this  poem  were  printed  in  the 
Daily  Telegraph  of  January  I,  1909.  They  were  used  as  a 
preface  to  the  well-known  essay  on  "  The  Influence  of  the 
Frontier  on  History,"  by  Professor  Frederick  Jackson  Turner. 
Kipling,  in  answer  to  a  request  to  clear  up  the  mystery  of 
how  and  where  the  complete  version  appeared,  replied  that  he 
could  not  remember  "  when  or  where  they  were  published  or 
what  the  rest  of  the  poem  is."  Fourteen  lines  of  it  are  pub- 
lished in  the  April  Century  (1909),  beginning — 

The  gull  shall  whistle  in  his  wake,  the  blind  wave  break  in  fire. 
And  the  last  line  is  : 

Till  on  his  last  won  wilderness  an  empire^ s  bulwarks  stand. 

COLLIER'S  (American),  December  2,  191 1.  "The  Variation 
of  the  Species  :  an  Answer  to  Rudyard  Kipling."  By  Amelie 
Rives  (Princess  Troubetzkoy). 

COLLIER'S  WEEKLY,  March  14,  1908.  Editorial  Bulletin 
giving  dates  of  publication  and  titles  of  the  "  Letters  to  the 
Family,"  by  Kipling,  as  follows  :  March  14,  "  The  Eldest 
Sister."  March  21,  "The  Relatives  at  Work."  March  28, 
"  Testing  the  Eldest  Sister's  Strength."  April  4,  "  Newspapers 
and  Democracy."  April  11,  "The  Rule  of  the  Servant." 
April  18,  "The  Town  that  was  Born  Lucky."  April  25, 
"  The  Wonderful  Years  to  Be."  May  2,  "  Democracy  :  the 
Enemy  of  the  Empire."  The  articles  appeared  in  the  Morning 
Post  between  March  12  and  April  30,  and  in  the  Vancouver 
World  about  the  same  date. 

CONTEMPORARY  REVIEW,  March  1891.  "Rudyard 
Kipling,"  by  J.  M.  Barrie. 


APPENDIX    II 

COSMOPOLHAN  MAGAZINE,  March  1893.  "Cervantes, 
Zola,  Kipling  and  Co,"  by  Brander  Mathews. 

CUNARD  DAILY  BULLETIN,  September  9,  1912.  "The 
Misquotations  of  Kipling,"  by  L.  A.  Thornbury. 

CURRENT  LITERATURE  (American),  October  1904.  "  Things 
and  the  Man,"  verses  by  Kipling.  Not  in  any  edition  of  his 
poems. 

CURRENT  LITERATURE  (American),  December  191 1. 
Contains  reply  made  by  Sydney  Low  in  the  Standard  to  Kip- 
ling's "  Female  of  the  Species."  The  historical  accuracy  of 
the  poem  is  disputed  by  a  Roman  Catholic  periodical.  It  is 
pointed  out  that  there  were  no  "  early  "  Jesuits  among  the 
Choctaws,  and  among  the  Hurons  the  Jesuits  were  defended 
time  and  again  by  the  squaws.  "  Could  Kipling  call  up  the 
spirit  of  De  Breberf  or  of  Chaumonot  from  the  vasty  deep, 
he  would  hear  how  a  heroic  squaw  had  defended  them  for 
weeks  in  her  cabin  at  the  risk  of  her  own  life  from  a  blood- 
thirsty mob  of  the  other  sex  that  was  raging  outside.  Jogues 
also,  who  was  slain  by  the  cousins  of  the  Hurons,  would  have 
told  with  gratitude  how,  again  and  again,  the  squaws  wept 
over  his  bleeding  wounds  and  tried  in  their  helpless  way  to  give 
him  relief." 

DAILT  TELEGRAPH,  November  19,  1914.  "  Lord  Roberts," 
by  Rudyard  Kipling. 

DAILT  TELEGRAPH,  September  6,  1915.  "  France  at  War," 
by  Rudyard  Kipling.  The  first  of  a  series  of  articles  dealing 
with  the  French  Army  at  the  front. 

DIAL  (Chicago),  May  16,  1899.  "The  Kipling  Hysteria,"  by 
Henry  Austin. 

DORSET  TEAR-BOOK,  1915.  Parody  of  "  Fuzzy- Wuzzy," 
by  Newman  Flower. 

EAST    AND      THE    WEST,    April     1903.      "Anglo-Indian 

Novelists." 
308 


APPENDIX   II 

EMPIRE  REVIEW,  November  1901.  Review  of  "  Kim,"  by 
W.  Lee -Warner. 

ENGLISH  ILLUSTRATED  MAGAZINE,  vol.  xxx,  1903-4. 
"  Kipling  and  the  Children,"  by  A.  D.  Cameron. 

ENGLISH  ILLUSTRATED  MAGAZINE,  December  1903, 
and  January  1904.  "  Rudyard  Kipling,"  by  F.  York  Powell. 
Contains  bibliography. 

EUREKA  (the  Favourite  Publishing  Co.),  May  1898.  ''The 
Fampire  and  its  Painter,"  by  Charles  Gar  vice.  This  article 
gives  a  vast  amount  of  information  about  Mr.  Philip  Burne- 
Jones,  his  picture  of  The  Fampire,  and  the  verses  which  Rudyard 
Kipling  wrote  upon  it. 

EFERTMAN,  June  5,  1914.  Article  on  Kipling  by  Francis 
Gribble. 

FORTNIGHTLY  REFIEW,  November  1891.  One  of  the  first 
serious  studies  of  Kipling  as  a  writer.  The  article  is  by  Francis 
Adams. 

FORTNIGHTLY  REFIEW,  February  1901.  Kipling's  satirical 
sketch  of  the  delays  and  troubles  which  befall  passengers  on  a 
certain  south  coast  railway  appeared  in  this  number. 

FORUM  (New  York),  September  1913.  "The  Poetry  of 
Rudyard  Kipling,"  by  J.  de  Lancey  Ferguson. 

FORUM,  September  1909.  "  Critical  Survey  of  the  Work  of 
Kipling,"  by  W.  L.  Phelps. 

FREE  REFIEW,  December  i,  1893.  "Mr.  Kipling's  Stories," 
by  Ernest  Newman. 

GEOGRAPHICAL  JOURNAL  (The  Royal  Geographical 
Society,  Kensington  Gore,  S.W.),  April  1914.  Price  2S. 
"  Some  Aspects  of  Travel,"  by  Rudyard  Kipling.  Full  report 
of  lecture,  together  with  speech  by  Viscount  Bryce  after  the 
paper. 

GREAT  THOUGHTS,  November  1913,     "  Kipling's  England." 

309 


APPENDIX   II 

GREAT  THOUGHTS,  August  15,  22,  1914.  "  Rudyard  Kipling 
as  a  Poet,"  by  the  Editor.  Also  see  article  by  J.  P.  Blake  in  issue 
for  March  1896. 

IDLER,  August  1898.     "Note  on  Kipling's  Soldier-Stories." 

IDLER,  December  1892.  "My  First  Book,"  by  Rudyard 
Kipling.     Illustrations  by  A.  S.  Boyd  and  G.  Hutchinson. 

ILLUSTRATED  LONDON  NEWS,  October  1910  to  January 
191 1.  Illustrations  by  Edward  J.  Detmold  for  "The  Second 
Jungle  Book." 

INDEPENDENT  (American),  December  28,  1911.  "Kipling's 
Psychology,"  by  Marion  C.  Smith.  A  reply  in  four  stanzas  to 
Kipling's  "  The  Female  of  the  Species." 

JUDGE  (American),  February  17,  1912.  "The  Poets."  Seven 
stanzas  by  Carolyn  Wells,  with  compliments  to  Mr.  Kipling. 

LESLIE'S  WEEKLY,  November  30,  191 1.  "The  Wisdom  of 
the  Male  :  a  Study  in  Natural  History."  Verses  in  reply 
to  "  The  Female  of  the  Species." 

LONDON  MAGAZINE.  "Rudyard  Kipling;  His  Mark: 
How  the  Famous  Author  corrects  his  Work."  Illustrated  with 
facsimiles  of  revised  proofs  of  his  Indian  Stories. 

LONDON  MAGAZINE,  October  1907.  "  Men  of  Moment  : 
Rudyard  Kipling." 

LONDONER,  May  19,  1900.  Review  of  "  Rudyard  Kipling : 
A  Criticism,"  by  Richard  Le  Gallienne,  from  the  pen  of  Sir 
Owen  Seaman.  This  review,  with  a  few  changes  by  Sir  Owen 
Seaman,  is  given  in  another  part  of  the  volume. 

LITERARY  DIGEST  (American),  December  10,  1910.  A  note 
on  Kipling's  speech  at  Brighton,  November  9,  1 910,  in  which 
Mr.  Chesterton's  remarks  on  it  in  the  Illustrated  London  News 
are  reprinted. 

LITERARY  DIGEST  (American),   July  24,   1915.     "  Kipling 

Tells  Why  Britons  Should  Fight." 
310 


APPENDIX   II 

LHERART  WORLD,  December  13,  1895.  "The  Genius  of 
Kipling."  July  13,  1894 :  The  Kipling- Johnston  Dinner. 
June  15,  1894:   Mr.  Kipling's  "Jungle  Book." 

McCLURE'S  MAGAZINE,  July  1896.  "Reminiscences  of 
Kipling,"  by  E.  Kay  Robinson.  Copiously  illustrated  with 
portraits  of  Kipling  and  views  of  Lahore. 

McCLURE'S  MAGAZINE,  June  1902.  "Cecil  Rhodes,"  by 
Rudyard  Kipling.  Footnote  :  "  This  poem  was  read  at  the 
burial  of  Mr.  Rhodes  in  the  Matoppos,  April  10,  1902." 

McCLURE'S  MAGAZINE,  February  1899;  10  cents.  "The 
White  Man's  Burden."    Poem  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 

MONTH  (Longman),  January  1900.  "The  Cult  of  Kipling," 
by  C.  D.  Plater. 

MONTHLT  REVIEW,  February  1903.  "An  Essay  on  Criti- 
cism." A  clever  poem  which  rebuked  the  poet  pleasantly 
for  divers  literary  indiscretions.  Unsigned.  Written  by  Sir 
Henry  Newbolt,  then  Editor  of  the  Monthly  Review. 

MORNING  POST,  June  24,  1913.  "France,"  by  Rudyard 
Kipling. 

MUNSErS  MAGAZINE,  August  1906.  "  The  Story  of  the 
Short  Story,"  by  Brander  Matthews. 

NEW  YORK  TIMES  BOOK  REVIEW,  March  14,  1915. 
"  Things  and  the  Man,"  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 

NEWNES'  ILLUSTRATED,  July  10,  1915.  "Human Beings 
versus  Huns." 

NORTH  AMERICAN  REVIEW,  February  1914.  (London  : 
Wm.  Heinemann.)  "  Rudyard  Kipling  seen  through  Hindu 
Eyes,"  by  A.  R.  Sarath-Roy.  Also  "The  Later  Work  of 
Rudyard  Kipling,"  by  Brian  Hooker,  in  the  same  review  dated 
May  1911. 

NOTES  AND  QUERIES,  January  4,  1902.  Contains  a  long  list 
of  American  editions  of  Rudyard  Kipling's  works. 

3" 


APPENDIX   II 

OUTLOOK  (American),  May  1911.  "Jungle  Nights."  Sug- 
gested by  Kipling's  "  Jungle  Stories."  By  Paul  Bransom. 
Illustrations  in  colour  after  the  style  of  the  Detmold  designs 
for  the  "  Jungle  Book." 

OXFORD  AND  CAMBRIDGE  REVIEW,  January  1912. 
"  Three  Jingle  Makers." 

PALL  MALL  MAGAZINE,  July  1904.  "  Kipling  and  Loti," 
by  George  Moore, 

PAPYRUS,  February  191 1.  "  Style  and  the  Man,"  by  Michael 
Monahan.  This  magazine  is  now  published  as  the  Phosnix  at 
South  Norwalk,  in  the  State  of  Connecticut,  U.S.A. 

PEARSON'S  MAGAZINE,  November  1896.  Contains  Kip- 
ling's famous  poem  "  The  'Eathen,"  with  six  full-page  illus- 
trations by  Georges  Montbard  ;  also  editorial  note  on  "  Cap- 
tains Courageous." 

PEARSON'S  MAGAZINE,  January  1898.  "  Major  J.  B.  Pond 
and  his  Association  with  Great  Men."  Contains  reduced  fac- 
simile of  letter  to  Major  Pond  from  Kipling  and  "  one  original 
hardwood  verse  "  which  the  author  inscribed  in  the  major's 
autograph-book. 

PEARSON'S  WEEKLT,  September  16,  1909.  "  Cuckoo  Song," 
by  Rudyard  Kipling. 

POETRY  REVIEW,  April  1912.  (London:  St.  Catherine 
Press.)  "  Modern  English  Poetry  :  Robert  Bridges,  Rudyard 
Kipling,  W.  B.  Yeats,  and  others." 

PUBLIC  SCHOOL  MAGAZINE,  November  1899.  Special 
article  on  United  Services  College,  Westward  Ho. 

QUARTERLY  REVIEW,  July  1908.  "  The  Romance  of  the 
Outlands."  Contains  careful  examination  of  the  work  of 
Kipling  and  Pierre  Loti.  A  careful  and  temperate  discussion 
on  Rudyard  Kipling's  tales  will  be  found  in  the  Quarterly 
Review  for  July  1892. 

312 


APPENDIX   II 

REGIMENT,  December  26,  191 4.  Attack  on  Kipling's  articles 
in  the  Daily  Telegraph  on  "  The  New  Army  in  Training." 
There  is  also  a  burlesque  on  a  Kipling  descriptive  article  in 
this  issue.  Kipling  wrote  five  stanzas,  which  were  entitled 
"  The  Bugler,"  for  the  Regiment  issued  on  October  25,  1902. 

REVIEW  DE  PARIS,  April  and  March  1899.  "  Rudyard 
Kipling,"  by  A.  Chevrillon. 

REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS,  April  i,  1899.  "  Rudyard  Kipling  : 
the  Banjo-Bard  of  Empire."  This  article  contains  a  vast 
amount  of  information.  The  frontispiece  is  from  an  etching 
by  Strang.  The  illustrations  include  a  portrait  of  the  house 
occupied  by  Kipling  at  Lahore,  the  author's  house  near  Brattle- 
boro',  "  The  Elms  "  at  Rottingdean,  a  caricature  from  the 
New  Tork  Herald,  and  a  facsimile  of  cover  of  Kipling's  first 
book. 

SATURDAT  REVIEW,  June  1899.  "The  Case  of  Mr.  Kip- 
ling." 

SCRIBNER'S  MAGAZINE,  October  1907.  "The  Point  of 
View."     Note  on  Kipling's  "They." 

SPHERE,  January  25,  1902.  W.  E.  Henley  on  Mr.  Kipling  and 
the  "  Muddied  Oafs." 

STRAND  MAGAZINE,  June  1900.  Facsimile  of  a  letter  written 
by  Kipling  for  a  wounded  soldier. 

STUDIO,  July  1900.  Contains  "  Recessional,"  illuminated  by 
E.  M.  Underwood. 

T.  P:S  weekly,  December  10,  1914.  "The  Prophetic 
Kipling,"  by  Holbrook  Jackson.  A  portrait -sketch  of  Kipling 
in  black  and  white  by  Rex  Osborne  is  used  as  a  cover  design 
in  this  issue.  There  is  also  a  print  of  Kipling  by  Joseph  Simpson 
in  T,  P.'s  Weekly  for  November  12,  1909. 

T.  P:S  weekly,  December  12,  1902.  "The  Portraiture  of 
Place,"  by  Lockwood  Kipling.  August  3,  1906 :  A  note 
on   the    story    "They."     November     21,    1914 :     "Kipling 


APPENDIX   II 

Explained."  January  7,  1910  :  "  Mr.  Kipling  :  Where  does 
he  Stand  ?  "  October  22,  1909  :  Review  of  "  Actions  and 
Reactions."  November  12,  1909  :  Note  on  Kipling.  July  28, 
191 1  :  "The  Cradle  of  Time,"  by  Reginald  R.  Buckley. 
October  14,  1910  :  "Puck  of  Sussex."  November  25,  1910  : 
Note  on  Kipling  and  Tory  Democracy.  December  30,  1910  : 
"The  Admirable  Klipling,"  by  Frederick  Niven.  November 
28,  1902  :  "  More  Kiplings." 

TIMES,  February  18,  1914.     "  Mr.  Kipling  on  Travel." 

T/T  BITS,  May  7,  1910.  "  Rudyard  Kipling  as  a  Reporter." 
By  one  of  his  old  colleagues  on  the  San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

WEEKLT  TELEGRAPH,  February  i,  1913.  "An  Unknown 
Chapter  in  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling's  Life." 

WINDSOR  MAGAZINE,  December  1899.  A  Biographical 
Sketch  by  Charles  Norton. 

Tf^ OMAN'S  SIGNAL,  March  24,  1894.  Article  by  Alice  Law  on 
"  Kipling's  Heroines,"  in  which  the  writer  has  fallen  foul  of 
Maisie.  A  correspondent  has  written  to  the  same  journal  in 
defence  of  Maisie  : 

"  I  have  always  considered  [her]  rather  unjustly  condemned 
by  the  public.  She  told  Dick  frankly  she  could  not  love  him, 
that  although  she  liked  having  him  to  wait  on  her  and  serve  her 
by  criticising  her  art,  she  could  never  give  him  what  he  wanted, 
and  that  he  had  better  go  away  from  her.  He  persisted  in 
offering  his  devotion  on  these  terms.  Yet  because  he  happened 
to  go  blind,  Maisie  is  condemned  because  she  did  not  do  what 
would  be  splendid  sacrifice  in  a  woman  who  loved;  entirely 
give  up  her  career  and  liberty  to  wait  on  him.  Would  anybody 
expect  a  man  to  give  up  his  career  and  marry  a  woman  he  didn't 
care  for  because  she  went  blind  ?     I  trow  not." 

Most  readers  of  "  The  Light  that  Failed  "  have  felt  much 
the  same  as  this  correspondent  with  regard  to  the  way  Maisie 
"  turned  down  "  Dick  when  the  great  darkness  settled  on  his 
life.     If  we,  however,   question  our  lady  friends  about  this 

314 


APPENDIX   II 

matter,  we  are,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  informed  that  Maisie 
was  a  "  beast  "  to  forsake  him.  Of  course,  the  ideal  woman 
to  a  woman  is  the  self-sacrificing  one.  The  centuries  have 
handed  down  such  noble  examples  of  woman's  sublime  abnega- 
tion that  we  have  come  to  look  upon  self-sacrifice  as  her  first 
duty. 

WORLD'S  WORK,  December  1912.  "Across  India  with 
*  Kim,'  "  by  Edgar  Allen  Forbes.  The  parts  dealing  with  the  re- 
puted birthplace  of  Kipling  in  Bombay  are  particularly  interest- 
ing. There  are  sixteen  photos  taken  in  tracing  the  footsteps 
of  Kim  and  the  Lama  in  their  search  for  the  River  of  the  Arrow. 
The  following  are  the  illustrations  :  "  Little  friend  of  all  the 
World,"  "The  Amritzar  Girl,"  "Native  Water  Carrier," 
"  Mahbut  Ali,"  "  Dawn  in  India,"  "  The  Te-rain  at  Umballa," 
"  Jullundes  Friends,"  "  R.  17,"  "  Station  where  F.  23  escaped 
in  the  guise  of  a  Saddhu,"  "  Kim's  Playmates  and  a  Juggler," 
"A  Bazaar  Letter-Writer,"  "The  Birthplace  of  Kipling," 
"The  Palace  of  Lights,  Lucknow,"  "Reputed  Birthplace  of 
Kipling  in  Bombay,"  "  The  Wheel  of  Things,"  "  The  Temple 
of  a  Tirthankers."  The  World's  Work  for  191 3  also  printed  an 
article  entitled  "  Rudyard  Kipling — Apostle  to  the  Pessimists  " 
(unsigned). 


315 


Ill 

BURLESQUES,  PARODIES,  AND 

EXTRACTS  FROM  VARIOUS 

CONTEMPORARY 

SOURCES 


I.   A  VERDICT  AGAINST  THE  EVIDENCE 

To  the  Londoner,  May  19,  1900,  Sir  Owen  Seaman  contributed 
the  following  review  of  Richard  Le  Gallienne's  book  on  Rudyard 
Kipling  : 

There  is  said  to  be  a  passage  in  one  of  Mr.  Le  Gallienne's  works 
where  a  lurid  contrast  is  drawn  between  two  types  of  literary 
genius.  One,  the  embodied  soul  of  piquant  sentiment  and  femi- 
nine fascination,  is  pictured  with  a  pallid  face  so  framed  in  sable 
locks  that  it  recalls  a  pine  wood  permeated  by  the  moon  ;  this 
is  understood  to  be  a  portrait  of  the  author  himself,  taken  from 
the  mirror.  The  other,  a  youth  of  brutal  vigour,  robust  to 
coarseness,  intolerably  male,  is  supposed  to  stand  for  Mr.  Rudyard 
Kipling — the  comparison  to  be  regarded  as  unfavourable  to  the 
latter.  If  it  is  admissible  to  assume  that  the  project  of  the  present 
appreciation  had  already  been  conceived  by  Mr.  Le  Gallienne 
at  the  time  when  he  composed  the  above  illustration,  one  may 
remark  on  the  admirable  candour  with  which  he  advertised  his 
personal  prejudices.  But  we  are  reminded  that  in  this  same 
virtue  of  candour,  whenever  popular  curiosity  has  cried  aloud  for 
satisfaction  as  to  the  author's  person,  whether  the  outside  or  the 
interior,  Mr.  Le  Gallienne  has  always  been  open-handed  with 
the  British  Public.  It  results  from  this  cause,  among  others,  that 
the  reviewer  of  this  new  book  is  liable  to  approach  his  task  with 
316 


APPENDIX   III 

something  of  Mr.  Le  Gallienne's  own  taint  of  prejudice  ;  but  as 
against  the  critic  rather  than  his  victim.  Indeed,  it  is  difficult 
to  think  of  any  capable  writer  less  qualified  by  taste  or  experience, 
or  habit  of  thought,  for  the  labour  he  has  undertaken.  There  is, 
of  course,  no  question  here  of  professional  jealousy.  Mr.  Kipling 
is  in  no  sense  his  rival ;  and,  though  he  were,  Mr.  Le  Gallienne 
has  more  than  once  proved  himself  a  generous  critic.  It  is  a  case 
of  essential  incompatibility  of  temperament.  A  certain  com- 
munity of  feeling  may  perhaps  be  traced  in  the  sense  of  humour 
common  to  both,  a  quality  for  which  Mr.  Le  Gallienne  may  not 
have  received  proper  credit ;  and,  indeed,  with  him  it  is  receptive 
rather  than  creative.  He  must  also  have  found  something  con- 
genial in  Mr.  Kipling's  occasional  want  of  reticence  in  his  treat- 
ment of  women.  In  this  connexion  it  is  significant  that  our 
critic  extends  an  admiration,  spared  from  much  better  work, 
to  the  "delightful  frankness"  of  "The  Ladies,"  to  "Mary, 
Pity  Women,"  and  to  "The  Mary  Gloster,"  with  special  notice 
of  the  passage  about  the  baronite's  pluralism,  with  its  "  Thank 
Gawd,  I  can  pay  for  my  fancies  !  "  The  "  passion,"  again,  of 
"Mandalay,"  and,  in  particular,  the  petticoat  verse,  commends 
itself  irresistibly  to  the  author  of  "  The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Girl." 
It  makes  him  "  unspeakably  glad." 

One  would  have  expected  that,  at  least  in  his  review  of  the 
poems,  the  critic's  judgment,  notable  or  not,  would  have  reached 
us  in  a  literary  form  worthy  of  permanence.  Yet,  if  we  except  a 
passably  eloquent  conclusion  (of  which  the  matter  leaves  us  uncon- 
vinced), it  is  slipshod,  uneven  work,  little  better  than  the  average 
of  reviews  written  against  time  ;  and,  even  so,  it  is  silent  on  the 
last  year  of  Mr.  Kipling's  work.  It  was  hardly  worth  while  to 
say  anything  at  all,  in  book  form,  about  Mr.  Kipling's  poetry  if 
he  was  going  to  omit  so  much.  Take  three  examples  in  poems 
of  widely  different  styles  :  "  The  First  Chantey,"  so  fresh  in  its 
imagination,  so  concentrated  in  its  strength  ;  "  Ford  o'  Kabul 
River,'  with  that  haunting  sadness  in  the  insistent  beat  of  its 
refrain  ;  and  "  The  Flowers,"  a  lyric  marred  by  something  of 
obscurity,  but  singular  among  all  Mr.  Kipling's  songs  for  its 
quality  of  pure  sweetness.     Not  one  of  these  is  so  much  as  men- 

317 


APPENDIX   III 

tioned  by  the  critic  !  One  other  poem  I  will  name — "  The  Last 
Suttee."  If  I  consulted  the  opinion  of  the  best  artificer  in  this 
kind  that  I  happen  to  know — ^Mr.  Henry  Newbolt — I  am  confident 
that  for  its  wealth  of  sound  and  dignity  of  language,  for  its  adapta- 
tion of  form  to  matter,  for  firmness  of  technique  and  economy 
of  strength,  he  would  count  it  among  the  noblest  of  English 
ballads.  Yet  by  Mr.  Le  Gallienne  it  is  thrown  aside  on  a  rubbish- 
heap  with  the  batch  of  poems  that  are  pronounced  to  be  "  all 
commonplace,  dull,  or  bad."  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  reason 
in  the  charge  brought  by  him  against  that  popular  poem,  "  Reces- 
sional." He  passes  over  its  technical  defects,  so  easy  of  assault  ; 
he  might,  too,  have  detected  a  suspicion  of  insincerity  in  Mr. 
Kipling's  sudden  volte-face,  his  renunciation,  on  his  country's 
behalf,  of  an  attitude  which  he  had  himself  inspired,  or  at  least 
encouraged.  But  the  critic  confines  his  attack  to  those  Hebraic 
methods  by  which  the  poet,  here  and  elsewhere,  arrogates  to 
the  British  nation  a  monopoly  of  Divine  patronage.  Personally, 
I  have  always  felt  that  the  pride  which  a  people  may  take  in  the 
possession  of  naval  strength  is  a  very  venial  fault  compared  with 
the  unctuous  assurance  of  a  nation  that  regards  itself,  at  this 
time  of  day,  as  the  Chosen  of  the  Lord.  Still,  Mr.  Le  Gallienne 
is  clearly  wrong  in  alluding  to  the  "  Christian  terminology  "  of 
this  poem.  It  is  the  language  of  the  Old,  not  the  New,  Covenant 
that  Mr.  Kipling  adopts. 

In  his  summing-up — ^for  Mr.  Le  Gallienne  is  judge  as  well  as 
counsel  for  the  prosecution  (and,  for  that  matter,  prisoner  at 
the  bar  too,  if  he  only  knew  it) — ^the  critic  declares  Mr.  Kipling 
to  be  a  "  master  of  captivating  sing-song,"  and,  again,  "  The 
Burns  of  the  music-hall  song."  These  are,  in  fact,  the  titles 
applied  to  the  poet  by  the  author  of  that  idyllic  phrase,  "  an  armful 
of  girl."  It  appears  that  Mr.  Kipling  has  only  written  a  "  total 
of  twelve  non-dialect  lines,"  the  word  dialect  being  meant  to 
imply  "  not  necessarily  dialect  of  speech,  but  at  least  dialect 
of  mood,  dialect  of  mind."  The  fatal  consequence  of  this  defect, 
according  to  the  critic's  judgment,  must  be  that  "  in  the  high 
calm  zone  of  poetry,  where  a  word  lasts  for  a  thousand  years  .  .  . 
where  Homer  sings  immortally  of  war,  though  it  was  never  given 
318 


APPENDIX    III 

to  his  poor  blind  eyes  to  dote  on  a  gun-cotton  gun  "  (whatever 
that  should  be)  "  or  a  submarine  boat  .  .  .  Mr.  Kipling  will  be 
only  too  glad  to  be  admitted  as  an  Academy  student." 

Mr.  Le  Gallienne  should  have  known  that  even  the  ordinary 
reader  of  to-day  is  not  innocent  enough  to  be  frighted  by  this 
harmless,  palpable  bogey.  And  his  scholarship  is  at  fault  if  he 
has  not  learned  that  the  amalgam  known  as  Homer  sang  with 
the  express  and  single  desire  of  pleasing  its  living  audience,  and 
to  that  end  employed  the  dialect  of  the  day.  As  for  dialect  of 
mood  or  mind,  it  was  not  an  age  of  specialized  erudition,  nor  even 
of  wider  differences  in  the  sphere  of  ignorance.  "  When  'Omer 
smote  his  bloomin'  lyre,"  he  made  Romance  out  of  such  material 
as  came  within  his  vague  cognizance  ;  and  of  this  material  the 
implements  of  war — ^the  shield,  the  spear,  the  arrow — ^must  have 
offered  the  least  possible  difficulties  to  his  mental  grasp.  If  he  had 
been  alive  to-day  he  would  have  made  Romance,  as  Mr.  Kipling 
certainly  has  made  it,  out  of  screw-guns  and  armour-plates  and 
triple-expansion  engines,  and  given  himself  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
in  the  process. 

The  present  war-fever  has  fostered  a  somewhat  unreasoning 
enthusiasm  for  Mr.  Kipling  at  his  second  best ;  and  though 
Mr.  Le  Gallienne  is  scarcely  more  reasonable  on  the  other  side, 
there  is  danger  lest  his  criticism  should  derive  an  inflated  import- 
ance from  the  accident  of  circumstance,  and  so  encourage  that 
tendency  to  revolt  from  popular  opinion  which  is  among  the 
infirmities  of  moderately  noble  minds. 


319 


APPENDIX    III 


II.    REPLY  TO  KIPLING'S  'ISLANDERS" 

The  following  poem  appeared  in  "  Rhymes  of  a  Rouseabout," 
by  W.  Monro  Anderson  : 

REPLY  TO  KIPLING'S  "  ISLANDERS  " 

Lord  of  the  loud-lunged  legions, 
Prince  of  the  purple  press, 
Are  we  but  pigmy  people 
Lost  in  the  wilderness, 
That  we  of  the  younger  nations 
Should  call  back  our  fighting  men 
At  the  blast  of  your  tin  war-trumpet, 
Or  the  scrawl  of  your  scathing  pen  ? 

We  of  the  younger  nations, 
We  are  no  sickly  spawn, 
Spoilt  little  lambs  of  the  Empire 
On  whom  the  elders  fawn. 
Willing  and  free  we  sought  it. 
Out  of  the  range  and  plain, 
Freely,  unbribed,  undriven. 
As  we  would  seek  again. 

Safe  in  your  inky  dug-out, 
Flinging  your  gibes  about — 
What  do  you  know  of  England 
Or  the  quest  that  brought  us  out  ? 
We  of  the  younger  nations. 
Reared  on  the  range  and  plain. 
Scornful,  out  of  the  battle, 
Hurl  you  the  lie  again. 

Lord  of  the  loud-lunged  legions. 
Scribe  of  a  jaundiced  age. 
We  of  the  younger  nations 
Have  read  from  a  brighter  page  ; 
320 


APPENDIX   III 

Have  learnt  of  the  old-time  captains 
How  their  stirring  deeds  were  done  ; 
How  on  the  fields  of  Eton 
The  great  war  games  were  won. 

So  when  the  war-worn  horseman 
Comes  to  his  own  again, 
Back  to  the  fen  and  moorland, 
Back  to  the  rolling  plain. 
Grudge  him  not  hound  nor  hunter, 
The  gun  nor  the  well-kept  turf. 
Bidding  him  strut  the  pavement 
Like  some  war-belted  serf  : 
Bidding  him  rule  the  people 
By  aping  the  foreign  cur. 
Whose  market-place  is  silenced 
By  the  clink  of  the  bully's  spur. 


III.    STALKY'S  SCHOOL-SONG 

The  following  Kipling  parody  appeared  in  "  Sa  Muse  S'Amuse," 
by  Wilfrid  Blair  : 

(A  hitherto  unrecovered  par-ergon  of  the  egregious  Beetle.) 
We  are  Children,  we  are  Gods,  we  are  Ossifers  and  Gents, 

And  the  others  they  can  never  understand, 
Bein'  specially  created  to  be  sat  upon  and  slated 

By  the  Lord's  Own  Chosen  Band. 
Savin'  us,  mankind  are  rotters  in  their  deeds  and  their  intents 

(Make  a  note  o'  that,  ye  Lepers,  make  a  note  !) 
With  their  "  Yes,  sir  !  "  and  their  "  No,  sir  !  "  and  their  "  Please, 
sir  !  "  and  their  "  Oh,  sir  !  "— • 

Fids  I  fids  I     Do  ye  hear  me  gloat  F 

So  we  rot  the  abject  burblers  in  a  manner  most  sublime. 

And  if  anyone  disturbs  our  rest. 
Oh,  we  promptly  up  and  bait  him  seriatim  et  frivatim 

Till  it's  thumbs  down  ! — actum  est ! 

X  321 


APPENDIX   III 

Does  a  master  run  athwart  us,  we  can  scrag  him  every  time — 

Metagrobolize — ^impale  the  giddy  goat. 
Having  nothin'  up  his  sleeve,  he  will  be  made  to  cry  "  Capivi  /  " — 

Fids  /  fids  !    Do  ye  hear  me  gloat  P 

Does  one  preach  to  us  of  cricket  ?     We  administer  reproof 

By  abolishing  the  flopshus  cad. 
Does  one  hint  that  we  are  squiffy  ?     We  will  rend  him  in  a  jiffy, 

Pure-souled,  high-minded  lad  ! 
We  are  marvellous  tacticians,  and  we  proudly  keep  aloof, 

We  are  blowed  if  we  will  paddle  in  your  boat. 
Oh,  my  most  beloved  'earers,  it  is  'ware  all  interferers  ! — 

Fids  !  fids  I    Do  ye  hear  me  gloat  P 

We  are  learnin',  O  my  brothers,  to  pursue  our  giddy  jape 

With  the  Alien  and  the  Folk  Beyond  the  Pale  ; 
In  the  sultry  land  of  Goshen  we  shall  put  away  emotion 

And  entrap  our  foes — full  tale  1 
From  Vancouver  to  Kooringa,  from  Kamskatga  to  the  Cape 

(For  Men  bulk  larger  bein'  more  remote). 
Ye  shall  hear  the  talky-talky  of  your  dear  old  Uncle  Stalky — 

Fids  /  fids  I     Ye  shall  hear  me  gloat ! 


IV.    KIPLING  RECITES  THE  CHANTEY  OF 
THE  NATIONS 

(From  Punchy  June  25,  1902) 

Great  Britain 

Sons  of  the  Blood,  which  is  twice  as  thick  as  water  is, 
Lock,  stock  and  barrel  of  the  Race  that  rules  the  Sea  ! 

Ye  have  left  your  occupation 

At  the  Mother's  invitation, 
Left  the  ice-floe,  and  the  swamp  and  the  jungly  mango-tree  ! 

I  am  the  Bard,  it  is  I  that  make  the  Catalogues, 
I  that  give  the  Oracles  that  otherwise  were  dumb  ; 
322 


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APPENDIX    III 

I  am  Kipling,  Pm  the  Voice, 
Fm  the  Chosen  People's  Choice, 
I'm  the  Words  and  Music  also,  I'm  the  Drummer  and  the  Drum. 

What  I  have  said  I  have  said,  and  pretty  often  too. 
Hinting  of  the  heritage  that  goes  v^^ith  British  birth  ; 

But  to-night  it  might  be  pleasant 

To  address  the  Nations  present 
Who  are  not  as  yet  embodied  in  the  Lordliest  Thing  on  Earth. 

France 

Thus  saith  the  Voice  to  the  genial  Boulevardiers  : 

"  Welcome,  gallant  neighbours,  I've  a  word  to  say  to  you  ; 

Could  ye  get  your  gutter  Press 

Just  to  lie  a  little  less. 
Ye  might  soon  forget  Fashoda,  and  the  shock  of  Waterloo." 

Austria 

Thus  saith  the  Voice  to  the  braves  of  Francis-Joseph  Land, 
Dwellers  by  the  Danube  in  the  home  of  cakes  and  bock  ; 

"  Ye  have  shown  us  what  to  waltz  to, 

But  ye  have  your  little  faults  too, 
And  ye  sold  us  Hungary  chargers,  five-and-forty  pounds  a  crock." 

Italy 

Thus  saith  the  Voice  to  the  men  of  V.  Emmanuel  : 
"  Te  are  not  fair-weather  friends,  ye  stick  through  storm  and 
rain ; 

Ye  have  lent  our  land  the  Duse, 

And  we  could  not  well  refuse  a 
Debt  of  honour,  so  we  sent  you  our  Corelli  and  our  Caine." 

Germany 

Thus  saith  the  Voice  to  the  Teutons  of  the  Fatherland, 
"  Hail !   Kaiser's  men,  out  of  Berlin  on  the  Spree  ; 

If  your  students  thirst  for  knowledge 

By  a  course  at  Oxford  College 
They  might  learn  to  know  us  better  and  behave  more  cousinly." 


APPENDIX    III 

Russia 

Thus  saith  the  Voice,  "  Ye  have  seen  us,  O  ye  Muscovites, 
Seen  our  Thameski  Prospect  and  the  City  paved  w^ith  Tin  : 

Ye  have  marked  the  friendly  air 

We  adopt  towards  the  Bear, 
Will  ye  veil  in  turn  the  Tartar  underneath  your  velvet  skin  ?  " 

Japan 

Thus  saith  the  Voice  to  the  w^earers  of  Chrysanthemums  : 
"  East  is  West  and  West  is  East,  for  now  the  twain  are  one  ; 

We  are  white  and  ye  are  yellow. 

Ye  are  young  and  we  are  mellow, 
Yet  we'll  hold  the  Seas  together  for  the  Lion  and  the  Sun." 


V.    A  BATTLE  OF  THE  BARDS 

(On  the  vexed  question  of  the  right  to  be  the  Poet  Laureate) 

There  has  been  much  discussion  as  to  whether  Kipling  should 
have  been  made  our  Poet  Laureate.  The  discussion  seems  rather 
futile,  because  there  is  no  need  to  bestow  the  butt  of  wine  upon 
the  poet  who  is  Laureate  of  the  Empire.  The  following  poem, 
from  the  pen  of  Wilfrid  Blair,  deals  with  the  question  in  a  few 
good-natured  and  humorous  verses  : 

Mr.  William  Watson  : 

Sirs,  we  are  met  to-day  in  high  cabal. 
In  calamipotence  and  laurelled  pride, 
To  ask  a  question  which  I  trust  we  shall 
Unchangeably  decide  : 
Who  is  most  fit  and  skilled  to  utter  wide 
The  official  odes  that  seem  inseparate 
From  moments  when  our  kings  are  coronate. 
Our  legions  warring,  or  our  freedom  sold  ? 
Me,  an  adept,  and  fashioned  bard-like,  me 
Before  whose  minstrelsy 


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APPENDIX    III 

King  Edward's  coronation  splendours  rolled 

With  (roughly)  this  same  metrical  effect, 

High  on  the  noon  of  potence  you  behold. 

And  now  the  bays,  which  hover  o'er  the  shelf 

Of  minor  poets,  sink  on  one  elect, 

I  certainly  expect 

To  be  the  bard  myself. 

Mr.  RuDYARD  Kipling  : 

Me  that  'ave  writ  what  I've  writ — 
Me  that  'ave  'it  'oom  I've  'it — 
Ain't  I  the  bloke  'oo  should  write 
The  bloomin'  old  stuff  you  require. 
With  every  one  gettin'  their  whack, 
An'  Atkins'  opinions  chucked  in, 
An'  pattin'  the  Race  on  the  back, 
An'  praisin'  the  Colonies'  might — 
Go  it,  the  Sons  of  the  Blood  ! — 
An'  makin'  the  Nations  perspire — 
Me  with  me  tumult  and  din — 
Me  the  original  Rudd — 
Me  that  'as  'old  of  the  knack — 
Me  ? 

I  have  sung  you  songs  of  Empire,  I  have  sung  you  songs  of  Lust, 

I  have  cursed  the  Little  Englander  no  end, 
I  have  sung  of  gallant  Tommies  going  large  upon  the  bust — 

Have  ye  ever  muttered,  "  Save  us  from  our  friend  !  "  ? 

By  the  bulk  of  my  ambitions,  by  my  manifold  editions. 

Ye  know  that  I'm  the  beggar  for  the  place. 
I  can  write  a  string  of  verses  full  of  prayers  and  praise  and  curses, 

And  my  readers  think  that  they  be  of  the  Race. 

Mr.  Henry  Newbolt  : 

I  stand  by  "  Clifton  Chapel,"  I  stand  by  "  Waggon  Hill," 
I  wrote  "  The  King  of  England  "  with  what  may  be  of  skill, 
I  set  your  pulses  throbbing  with  rhythm  strange  and  rare 
When  in  your  ears  I  chanted  "  The  Fighting  Temeraire." 

32s 


APPENDIX   III 

0  conscientious  fighters,  whom  every  conflict  helps, 

A  Muse  of  blood  and  slaughter  befits  the  Lion's  whelps  ; 
Yet  as  ye  fight  forget  not  the  man  who  marks  the  score. 
The  man  who  bids  you  cherish  the  saving  grace  of  gore. 

My  fame's  in  "  Clifton  Chapel,"  my  fame's  in  "  Waggon  Hill," 

1  fancy  I  can  manage  a  "  King  of  England  "  still ; 

Think  how  I  filled  your  pulses  with  rhythm  strange  and  rare 
When  in  your  ears  I  chanted  "  The  Fighting  Temeraire." 

Mr.  Alfred  Noyes  : 

Scrapes  and  skirmishes,  rhymes  and  ballads,  on  roads  to  Mandalay, 
Gilding  over  with  Jingo  themes  the  jaunts  of  Thomas  A.  ; 
Sheets  of  slang  and  reams  of  rhetoric,  written  in  Barrack-Room 

ways. 
Oh,  Mr.  Asquith  is  never  the   man  to  bind  your  brows  with 

bays  ! 

Or  is  it  a  paladin  silver-pure,  and  singing  with  golden  lilt. 
That  cries  a  creed  from  the  clash  of  swords  and  keeps  his  hand 

on  the  hilt, 
With  a  "  bright  Medusa  "  to  boast  about  and  a  Temeraire  to 

voice. 
And  "  Admirals   All "  to   glorify — is   it   you  will  be  Asquith's 

choice  ? 

My  rhythm  runs  in  a  jewelled  whirl  and  my  words  are  a  rainbow 

dream. 
My  Muse  outbursts  from  my  swooning  lips  to  build  a  loftier 

theme  ; 
Richer  than  radium,  purer  than  pearls,  in  a  shattering  pomp  of 

light. 
And  the  luscious  alliteration  leaps  in  the  radiant  verse  I  write. 

Mr.  John  Masefield  : 

Oh,  my  tunes  are  new  tunes,  and  my  rhythm's  free 

As  the  slatting  sails,  t'gallant  sails,  of  a  ship  at  sea. 

I've  heaved  convention  overboard,  along  with  the  soft  pap. 

And  I  sling  the  damns  about  the  deck,  I'm  the  devil  of  a  chap. 

326 


APPENDIX   III 

But  don't  you  go  and  mistake  me.     I'm  nuts  on  high  romance, 
And  there's  treasure  trove  in  the  gold  guts  of  common  circum- 
stance. 
It's  oh  for  Bredon,  beautiful  ladies,  and  jingling  portagues. 
Pilgrim  fever  of  questing  life  in  fo'c'stles  or  stews. 

Sort  of  ballad  measure  beating  down  the  sea-ways, 

Taking  green  the  surges  as  her  head  she  butts. 

With  a  litter  of  galleons, 

Road-dust  and  sunsets — 

That's  me,  so  stand  clear,  you  closhy  puts  ! 

*  *  *  *  * 

Mr.  AsQUiTH  (loq.)  : 

Being  no  poet,  but  a  Balliol  man 

Of  the  early  seventies,  I  disdain  to  scan 

The  names  of  all  the  rhymesters  in  Who^s  Who. 

Bridges  of  Corpus  is  the  man — he'll  do  ! 

My  own  coeval !     Let  us  not  forget 

Balliol  and  Corpus  where  they  make  you  sweat. 

If  he's  a  Liberal  still,  the  bargain's  struck. — 

Oh,  and  he  too  writes  poetry  !    What  luck  ! 

The  Public  : 

But  who  is  Bridges  ? 

All  the  other  Poets  : 

Bridges  !     Hear  the  mob  ! 
Our  poet — far  too  good  for  such  a  job  ! 


327 


APPENDIX   III 


VI.    OUR  NEW  ARMIES  IN  TRAINING 

The  following  burlesque  appeared  in  the  Regiment  on  December 
26,  1914  : 

WONDERFUL  DESCRIPTIVE  ARTICLE,  BY 
RUDYARD  KIPLING 

Caution  / — ^This  article  must  not  be  confused  with  Mr.  Rudyard 
Kipling's  descriptions  of  the  New  Armies  now  appearing  in 
the  Daily  Telegraph. 

One  had  known  the  place  for  years,  as  a  picturesque  mansion, 
standing  alone  in  a  peaceful  park — not  one  of  those  quarrelsome 
parks  given  to  unseemly  behaviour,  but  a  peaceful  park,  a  park  of 
serene  aspect  and  blameless  character.  There  were  oaks  (which, 
doubtless,  had  once  been  acorns)  and  a  field  of  green  pasture 
standing  freshly  out  from  the  vermilion  or  blue  pastures  of  the 
country-side,  while  birds  flitted  among  the  trees,  and  worms 
gambolled  gracefully  on  the  carriage  drive. 

*  «  * 

Editor :  But  what  has  all  this  got  to  do  with  the  New  Armies  ? 
Author :  Wait  and  see.     I  always  start  like  that. 

*  #  # 

Amid  these  appalling  scenes  of  bloodshed — I  beg  your  pardon  : 
of  course,  I  have  not  come  to  the  bloody  scenes  yet.  We  had 
better  start  this  paragraph  again  : 

Here,  in  a  single  night,  as  if  by  the  touch  of  a  magician's  wand, 
tents  started  up,  and  the  thunder  of  hoofs  and  wheels — and  the 
lightnings  of  soldiers'  language — shook  the  canopy  of  heaven. 

My  car  was  halted  by  a  sentry,  who,  being  satisfied  that  he 
was  actually  addressing  none  other  than  Mr.  Kudyard  Ripling 
strove  to  conquer  his  natural  embarrassment. 

"  So  there  are  troops  here,  are  there  ?  "  said  I. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he. 

"  And  when  do  they  go  out  to  drill  ?  "  said  I. 

328 


APPENDIX   III 

"  At  seven  o'clock  every  morning,"  said  he. 
"  In  this  dreadful  weather  ?  "  said  I. 
"  Not  half  !  "  said  he. 

*  *  * 

[Note. — ^The  Press  Bureau,  while  objecting  very  strongly  to 
this  dialogue,  regret  they  are  unable  to  prohibit  its  publication.] 

*  *  # 

I  passed  on,  much  impressed  by  the  significant  remarks  of  this 
fine  fellow,  and  inspected  the  cookhouse  where  the  men's  meals 
were  being  cooked.  (This,  however,  need  cause  no  surprise, 
as  cookhouses  are  usually  so  employed.) 

The  fire  was  smoking  and  the  glowing  embers  threw  out  heat, 
and  the  cook  was  cooking.  How  these  dramatic  incidents  burn 
themselves  into  the  brain  of  the  skilled  observer  ! 

One  thought  of  the  kitchen  range  at  home,  and  the  saucepans, 
kettles,  and  frying-pans  ....  I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  that 
a  suspicious  moisture  sprang  to  my  eyes  when  the  cook  began  to 
peel  the  onions. 

The  cook  (who,  by  the  way,  had  been  a  sanitary  inspector  in 
civil  life)  lifted  the  lid  of  a  stewpan,  sniffed  critically,  and  walked 
quickly  out  into  the  open  air. 

"  The  rain,  sir,  is  very  refreshing,"  he  said  to  me. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  I.  "  And  what  time  will  the  men  be 
back  to  dinner  ?  " 

"About  twelve  o'clock,  sir,"  said  he. 

"  Brave  fellows  !  "  said  I,  with  a  backward  glance  at  the  stew, 
and  passed  onwards  to  yet  more  enthralling  scenes. 

*  *  * 

Editor  :  Anything  less  enthralling  I  have  never  read.  When 
are  you  going  to  start  telling  us  about  "Training  the  New 
Armies  "  ?     That's  what  I  want  to  know. 

Author :  Hush  !  You  really  must  not  ask  such  rude  ques- 
tions. *  #  # 

I  was  fortunate  enough  to  see  the  men  come  in  from  their  drill 
in  the  soaking  rain.     All  of  them  were  wet,  I  noticed,  but  they 


APPENDIX   III 

were  in  the  best  of  spirits.  I  did  not  hear  one  single  word  of 
complaint — and  I  envied  their  fortitude  !  For  wet  weather 
affects  me  sadly — it  always  seems  to  aggravate  my  chronic  deafness. 

As  I  walked  back  to  my  waiting  car,  I  saw  a  pheasant  strut 
across  the  drive.  A  cow  was  browsing  in  an  adjoining  field,  and 
a  frog  hopped  sullenly  through  the  saturated  grass.  The  rain  was 
still  falling  .  .  .  falling  .  .  .  falling. 

Such  is  war  ! 

Next  week  I  shall  continue  these  observations. 


Editor  :  Only  over  my  dead  body 


VII.   MUSICAL  SETTINGS 

"  The  Absent -Minded  Beggar."  Music  by  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan. 
Mr.  Gerard  F.  Cobb  has  set  the  words  of  many  of  Kipling's 
"  Barrack-Room  Ballads  "  to  music,  and  the  following  can  be 
obtained  from  Messrs.  Chas.  Sheard  and  Co.  :  "  Mandalay,"  "  The 
Young  British  Soldier,"  "  Route  Marchin',"  "  Soldier,  Soldier," 
"  Fuzzy-Wuzzy,"  "  Troopin',"  "  Ford  o'  Kabul  River,"  "  Danny 
Deever,"  "  Shillin'-a-day,"  "  CeUs,"  "  Belts,"  "  Widow's  Party," 
"  Screw  Guns,"  "  Gunga  Din,"  "  Oonts,"  and  "  Snarleyow."  Sir 
Frederick  Bridge  has  set  the  "  Song  of  the  English  "  to  music  for 
baritone,  solo,  chorus,  and  orchestra  (Novello,  is.).  "  Tommy," 
by  Mary  Carmichael,  "On  the  Road  to  Mandalay,"  by  Walter 
Hedgcock,  and  "The  Widow  of  Windsor,"  by  Gordon  Suther- 
land, are  published  by  Sheard,  196  Shaftesbury  Avenue.  "The 
Mandalay  Waltz  "  was  composed  by  Berwicke  Beverley.  "  The 
Recessional  "  has  been  set  to  music  by  A.  Berridge  and  can  be 
found  in  "  Garrett  Horder's  Worship  Song."  Macmillan  and  Co. 
issue  a  book  of  songs  from  "  Just  So  Stories,"  with  music  by 
Edward  German  ;  and  from  the  same  volume  the  verses  beginning 
"  I've  never  sailed  the  Amazon  "  have  been  published  by  Novello 
and  Co.  under  the  title  of  "  Rolling  down  to  Rio."  Chappell 
and  Co.  publish  "  The  Hymn  Before  Action  " ;   Florence  Ayl- 


APPENDIX   III 

ward's  music  to  the  "  Tree  Song  "  from  "  Puck  of  Pook's  Hill  "  ; 
"  The  Lost  Legion,"  by  Ward-Higgs  ;  the  haunting  and  beautiful 
"  Love  Story  of  Har  Dyal,"  with  music  by  Batten ;  Tour's 
"Mother  o'  Mine"  and  "  Our  Lady  of  the  Snows."  "The 
Mother  Seal's  Song,"  "Night  Song  in  the  Jungle,"  "Tiger, 
Tiger,"  "  Road  Song  of  the  Bandar  Log,"  and  "  The  Song  of 
Toomai,"  all  composed  by  Dora  Bright,  are  issued  by  Elkin  and  Co. 
Sheard  and  Co.  have  published  a  new  series  of  Kipling's  songs 
with  music  by  W.  Ward-Higgs  which  include  "  Soldier  and  Sailor 
Too  !  "  "  Bill  'Awkins,"  "  Follow  Me  'Ome,"  and  "  The  Widow's 
Party." 


VIII.  A  NOTED  MUSIC  CRITIC  ON 
KIPLING 

To  7he  Free  Review,  December  i,  1893,  Ernest  Newman  con- 
tributed a  notable  paper,  under  the  title  of  "  Mr.  Kipling's 
Stories."  From  Mr.  Newman's  acrid  survey  the  following 
selections  are  taken  : 

The  same  fatal  facility  that  shows  itself  in  some  of  Mr.  Kipling's 
verses  appears  in  his  prose  work  in  that  volubility  of  tongue  that 
can  fill  pages  with  the  records  of  the  conversations  of  men,  and 
yet  simply  leave  us  with  the  impression  that  men  never  do  talk 
in  this  way.  They  are  flaying  at  talking,  playing  at  thinking, 
playing  at  living.  Take,  for  instance,  the  conversations  of  the 
War  Correspondents  in  "  The  Light  that  Failed,"  and  ask  yourself 
if  these  men  are  anything  but  puppets  dressed  up  to  articulate 
certain  glib  phrases.  They  are  all  palpably  posing  ;  all  palpably 
striving  to  appear  deuced  fine  fellows.  Are  War  Correspondents 
perpetually  posing  in  this  manner  in  private  life  ?  Or,  for  another 
instance,  take  the  club-room  conversation  of  the  officers  in  "  The 
Story  of  the  Gadsbys."  Here,  be  it  remembered,  Mr.  Kipling 
is  drawing  the  portraits  of  men  of  whom  he  may  be  supposed  to 
have  an  intimate  knowledge.  Yet,  allowing  for  the  difference 
in  the  surroundings,  they  simply  talk  like  the  War  Correspondents. 
Do  "  officers  and  gentlemen  "  conduct  themselves  like  a  lot  of 


APPENDIX   III 

city  clerks  playing  the  'Arry  ?  Do  they  fire  off  aimless  witticisms 
in  this  way  ?  Do  they  allude  to  their  having  dined  with  a  superior 
officer  as  having  "  mangled  garbage  ''  at  his  table  ?  What  is 
Mr.  Kipling  doing  but  turning  out  characters  as  a  joiner  might 
turn  out  wooden  images,  all  made  to  the  same  pattern,  and  each 
as  lifeless  as  the  others  ?  As  soon  as  he  leaves  the  sensational  and 
the  abnormal  he  tends  to  become  fatuous.  His  men  pose  too 
palpably  to  permit  of  our  taking  them  at  his  estimate  or  at  their 
own  ;  their  factitious  simulation  of  the  rake-hellish  is  too  un- 
convincing. And  his  women  offend  by  the  same  vice  of  staginess. 
While  the  men  play  at  being  fine,  the  women  flay  at  being 
naughty,  and  they  impress  us  v^dth  the  idea  that  they  are  actually 
naughty  just  about  as  much  as  the  men  impress  us  with  the  idea 
that  they  are  actually  fine  fellows.  Mrs.  Hauksbee  is  as  unnatural 
as  Torpenhow  and  the  Nilghai  and  Captain  Gadsby.  .  .  . 

His  apparent  breadth  of  receptivity  is  delusive  ;  because  in  the 
final  literary  product  of  his  experiences  we  discover  that  he  has 
looked  at  all  things  from  very  much  the  same  point  of  view. 
The  inevitable  result  is  that  while  he  dazzles  us  at  first  by  the 
exhibition  of  an  intelligence  that  seems  to  play  with  equal  ease 
over  many  departments  of  life  and  nature,  we  find  in  the  end 
that  we  have  simply  been  deluded  by  the  same  inner  consciousness 
masquerading  under  many  outer  forms.  For  while  Mr.  Kipling 
appears  to  understand  so  many  things,  in  reality — ^it  must  be  said 
candidly — he  understands  very  few.  His  abnormal  cleverness  in 
seizing  upon  externals  and  reproducing  them  cannot  hinder  us 
from  ultimately  recognizing  that  he  has  only  dealt  in  externalities. 
He  has  travelled  much,  has  seen  many  men  and  many  lands,  and 
his  plastic  sensibility  has  made  him  peculiarly  receptive  of  what 
he  has  seen  and  heard  ;  but  each  story  he  writes  is  simply  a  new 
avatar  of  his  original  self,  simply  a  new  incarnation  of  a  very 
narrow  stock  of  ideas  in  a  very  wide  stock  of  sensations  and  ex- 
periences. Whatever  he  does — the  description  of  a  fight  in  India, 
of  an  army  upon  the  march,  of  men  living  in  the  woods  among  the 
beasts,  of  the  interior  of  a  Hindu  courtesan's  house — has  a  con- 
vincing air  that,  in  the  absence  on  our  own  part  of  direct  knowledge 
of  the  things  he  is  describing,  makes  us  hold  his  description  to  be 


APPENDIX    III 

solid  and  true.  It  is  only  when  he  attempts  to  deal  with  matters 
and  characters  that  are  within  the  range  of  our  own  experience 
that  we  detect  his  superficiality.  .  .  . 

No  genuine  artist  could  have  given  such  an  ending  to  such 
a  story  as  "  On  Greenhow  Hill  "  as  Mr.  Kipling  has  given  it — 
an  ending  of  gratuitous  brutality.  It  is  simply  the  instinct  of  the 
irresponsible  savage,  who  has  so  little  rational  self-control  as  to  go 
down  before  the  impulse  to  soil  or  smash  the  very  piece  of  work 
he  has  just  built  up.  And  if  anyone  desires  to  realize  thoroughly 
how  impotent  is  Mr.  Kipling  to  deal  artistically  with  a  psycho- 
logical problem  of  man's  soul  and  woman's,  to  see  how  he  makes 
brutality  take  the  place  of  art,  and  cynicism  the  place  of  wisdom, 
let  him  compare  such  a  story  as  "  A  Wayside  Comedy  "  with  the 
handling  of  a  somewhat  similar  situation  in  Mr.  Stevenson's 
"  Providence  and  the  Guitar."  It  is  just  the  difference  between 
the  barbarian  and  the  artist. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  with  an  intelligence  of  this  kind 
we  must  not  look  for  depth  or  breadth  of  human  outlook.  Prob- 
ably few  people  could  have  seen  so  much  of  the  world  as  Mr, 
Kipling  has  done  to  such  small  advantage.  His  observations  on 
men  and  manners  are  nowhere  very  wise,  and  in  many  places 
are  absolutely  foolish.  In  this  respect  we  must  remember  that 
what  seems  to  be  fairly  veracious  work  on  his  part — such  as  the 
description  of  native  manners  and  ways  of  thought — may  be  so 
only  because  of  our  own  ignorance  of  these  things.  We  have  seen 
him  to  be  egregiously  astray  in  his  pseudo-artistic  treatment  of 
men  and  scenes  we  are  familiar  with  ;  and  the  question  is  in- 
evitably suggested.  Have  we  any  guarantee  that  in  the  treatment 
of  matters  removed  from  our  own  experience  Mr.  Kipling  has 
been  intrinsically  any  more  veracious  ?  And  allowing  for  the 
fact  that  his  own  mental  processes  are  abnormal  rather  than 
anything  else,  it  is  just  probable  that  had  we  had  the  same  actual 
experiences  as  he,  we  should  pronounce  his  insight  into  these  to 
be  no  deeper  than  his  insight  into  the  life  we  know. 

Few  men  of  intelligence,  we  are  compelled  to  think,  could  have 
seen  so  much  of  life  as  Mr.  Kipling  and  yet  learned  so  little  wisdom. 
For  if  we  may  judge  from  his  books,  the  impressions  of  his  life 

333 


APPENDIX   III 

seem  to  have  run  mainly  to  creating  in  him  an  egregious  form  of 
Jingoism,  and  to  stimulating  him  to  hatred  of  Ireland  and  of 
Russia.  It  may  be  noted,  too,  how  consciously  or  unconsciously, 
his  literary  method  in  the  treatment  of  a  type  he  does  not  like 
becomes  as  disingenuous  as  his  antipathy  is  irrational.  He  will 
contrive  to  rouse  your  anti-Russian  feeling,  for  instance — ^if  you 
have  any — by  the  dexterous  process  of  sketching  one  Russian  officer 
who  is  not  exactly  a  model  of  humane  ethics,  and  making  him 
serve  as  a  pseudo-typical  member  of  his  race  ;  setting  up  in  con- 
trast to  him,  of  course,  English  officers  who  are  supposed  to  be  the 
incarnation  of  all  the  manly  virtues.*  And  this  he  will  do  in  a 
story  so  clever  in  itself,  that  almost  in  spite  of  yourself  you  are 
gulled  into  accepting  the  special  pleading.  In  a  similar  manner 
the  extremely  clever  little  sketch,  "  Namgay  Doola  " — one  of  the 
neatest  pieces  of  work  Mr.  Kipling  has  done — becomes  absurd 
through  its  grotesque  assumption  of  ethnological  wisdom. 


IX.  MR.   KIPLING'S  SCHOOLMASTERS  AND 
SCHOOLBOYS 

(I)  By  T.  E.  page,  master  AT  CHARTERHOUSE 

This  review  of  "  Stalky  and  Co."  is  reprinted  from  ^he  Bookman, 
November  1899. 

T  he  heroes  of  this  book  are  three  boys,  McTurk,  Stalky,  and 
Beetle,  the  last  of  whom  represents  Mr.  Kipling  himself,  and  the 
story  describes  their  exploits  at  a  "  College  "  of  some  two  hundred 
boys,  the  other  characters  being  chiefly  masters  connected  with  the 
place. 

When  introduced  to  the  reader  Stalky  and  his  two  friends 
have  been  about  four  or  five  years  at  school  and  possess  con- 
siderable influence.  But  they  are  at  war  with  the  masters,  despise 
the  prefects,  and  sneer  at  all  school  games.  They  lead  a  life  apart, 
and  "  gloat  "  over  their  triumphs  in  secret.     "  Je  vais  gloater,'*^ 


The  Man*Who  Was." 

a 


334 


APPENDIX   III 

says  Beetle  after  one  performance,  "  ^e  vais  gloater  tout  le  blessed 
afternoon."  "This  is  much  too  good,"  remarks  McTurk  after 
another,  "  to  tell  all  the  other  brutes  in  the  Coll.  They'd  never 
understand.  They  play  cricket,  and  say,  '  Yes,  sir,'  and  '  Oh,  sir,' 
and  '  No,  sir.'  " 

Instead  of  playing  cricket  the  three  lads  smoke  in  a  hut  hidden 
among  furze-bushes,  from  which  they  are  hunted  by  a  sergeant 
who  "  wears  tennis -shoes  and  carries  binoculars  "  to  assist  him 
in  the  pursuit  of  evil-doers.  Then  they  move  their  pipes  and 
themselves  to  a  romantic  eyrie  among  the  cliffs  on  the  seashore, 
from  which  "  they  could  hear  young  jackdaws  squawking  on  the 
ledges,"  and  from  which  Stalky  was  enabled  "  with  great  de- 
liberation " — ^these  are  the  author's  own  graphic  words — "  to 
spit  on  to  the  back  of  a  young  rabbit  sunning  himself  far  down." 
Such  enthusiasts,  indeed,  are  they  for  the  forbidden  luxury  of 
smoking  that  we  are  treated  to  a  further  account  of  their  tramping 
through  the  rain  to  a  spot  where  they  could  sit  down  "  among 
water-logged  clods  on  a  rust-coloured  harrow,"  in  order  to 
consume  a  cheroot  in  partnership  and  be  sick  in  common.  "  Je 
cat,  tu  cat,  it  cat.  Nous  cations  I  "  is  the  observation  of  McTurk 
as  he  "hands  up  his  contribution  "  (p.  i6i),  although  elsewhere 
the  speaker  is  said  to  be  an  admirer  of  the  style  of  Ruskin  and 
given  to  binding  up  "  odd  numbers  of  Fors  Clavigera  "  in  spare 
moments. 

This  taste  for  surreptitious  tobacco  is  strictly  congruous  with 
the  other  activities  of  this  remarkable  trio.  The  third  chapter 
(pp.  64-99)  i^  ^^^7  accurately  headed  "  An  Unsavoury  Interlude," 
and  relates  with  a  rich  wealth  of  detail  how  they  introduce  a  dead 
cat  underneath  the  floor  of  a  large  dormitory  in  the  adjoining 
boarding-house.  Mr.  Kipling  handles  this  theme  with  masterly 
power,  and  I  can  recall  no  place  in  literature  in  which  evil  smells 
are  discussed  with  such  admirable  and  appreciative  skill.  It  is  a 
shame  to  mutilate  a  passage  which  must  become  a  locus  classicus 
to  all  students  of  the  malodorous,  but  a  single  quotation  may  illus- 
trate its  vivacity.  "When  she  begins  to  fume,"  says  Stalky, 
referring  to  the  cat,  "she'll  whisper  to  'em  in  their  dreams. 
Then  she'll   whiff.     Golly,   how  she'll   whiff !    Oblige   me   by 

335 


APPENDIX   III 

thinkin'  of  it  for  two  minutes."  The  subject,  indeed,  rises  above 
the  power  of  prose,  and  Beetle  indicates  that  he  will  enshrine 
it  in  a  Ballad.  "  '  Keep  clear  of  anything  coarse,  then,'  said 
Stalky.  *  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  coarse  on  this  happy  occasion.' 
*  Not  for  wo-orlds,'  replies  Beetle.  '  What  rhymes  to  "  stenches,''^ 
some  one  ?  '  "  (p.  88).  The  italics  are  not  Mr.  Kipling's,  but 
he  must  have  credit  for  understanding  what  particular  rhyme 
he  thus  subtly  suggests. 

In  the  fifth  chapter  the  heroes  appear  as  "Moral  Reformers," 
or,  in  their  own  jargon,  as  "  moral  suasers,"  and  execute  justice 
on  two  bullies  by  trussing  them  for  a  suggested  cockfight,  and  then, 
when  they  are  quite  helpless,  administering  the  following  tortures, 
viz.  (i)  "Head-knuckles,"  (2)  "Brush-drill,"  (3)  "the  Key," 
(4)  "  Corkscrews,"  (5)  "  Rocking  to  sleep,"  and  (6)  "  the  Ag 
Ag  "  ;  after  which  they  singe  off  one  whisker,  administer  "  cracks  " 
with  a  "  cricket-stump  on  the  curved  latter-end  "  (p.  152)  of 
their  weeping  victims,  and  finally  compel  them  to  sing  a  comic 
song.  The  effects  of  this  treatment  are  apparently  to  promote 
virtue,  and  when  the  School  Chaplain  and  the  Headmaster — a. 
remarkable  man  who  "  sends  a  boy  spinning  into  the  waste-paper 
basket  "  and  then  gives  him  "  eight  cuts,  welters  " — discuss  a 
complaint  which  is  sent  them  by  a  widowed  mother  on  the  subject 
they  "  wink  "  at  one  another  like  "  Augurs,"  and  agree  to  dis- 
miss it. 

The  behaviour  of  Stalky  and  Co.  cannot,  however,  be  said  to 
improve  in  consequence  of  the  "Augurs  winking,"  and  the 
crowning  exploit  of  their  last  term  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
in  fiction.  In  order  to  revenge  themselves  on  a  weak  prefect, 
who  has  reported  them  to  the  Sixth  Form  for  impertinence,  they 
bribe  a  girl  to  kiss  the  timid  lad  at  a  shop  door,  and  then  turn 
upon  their  accuser  and  judges  with  a  general  charge  of  impropriety. 
"  It — ^it  isn't,"  says  Beetle,  addressing  the  court,  "  so  much  the 
cynical  immorality  of  the  biznai,  as  the  blatant  indecency  of  it, 
that's  so  awful.  As  far  as  we  can  see,  it's  impossible  for  us  to  go 
into  Bideford  without  runnin'  up  against  some  prefect's  unwhole- 
some amours."  The  Sixth  are  dumb-foundered  by  such  language, 
beg  the  three  young  blackguards  to  hush  the  whole  affair  up, 
336 


APPENDIX    III 

and  Beetle,  after  lecturing  them  severely,  in  the  end  agrees  that 
"  for  the  honour  of  the  school  they  will  keep  their  mouths  shut 
as  to  these — ah — obscenities,"  after  which  Stalky  and  Co.  retire 
to  their  study  and  laugh  until  they  are  "  too  weak  to  move."  It 
is  not  the  questionable  tone  of  this  story — for  that  might  be 
paralleled — ^which  renders  it  unique,  but  its  extravagant  im- 
possibility. There  is  not  a  boy  in  England  who  does  not  know 
that  Beetle's  harangue  could  not  conceivably  have  been  uttered, 
and  that,  if  it  had  been,  there  is  no  human  probability  that  he 
would  have  survived  to  tell  the  tale.  A  writer  of  stories  for  the 
young  should  either  write  about  subjects  which  they  do  not 
understand  or  else  refrain  from  relating  palpable  absurdities. 

Space  forbids  me  to  dwell,  as  I  might  wish,  on  the  gross  carica- 
tures which  Mr.  Kipling  presents  not  only  of  boys,  but  of  masters. 
The  headmaster  takes  "  his  after-dinner  cheroot  "  to  a  prefect's 
study  and,  after  "  a  cock  of  one  wise  eyebrow,"  addresses  the  boys 
present  as  "  Luxurious  infants,"  while  he  drops  into  a  "  big  half- 
couch  "  ;   and,  on  another  occasion,  informs  his  pupils  that  "  he 
can  connive  at  immorality,  but  cannot  stand  impudence."    As 
for  the  assistant  masters,  they  merely  take  the  place  of  the  police- 
man in  a  pantomime,  on  whom  Tomfool  plays  his  tricks  in  order  to 
set  the  pit  in  a  roar.     But  then,  as  the  School  Chaplain  assures 
us,  we  should  "  never  forget  that  a  master  is  not  a  man."     It 
may  be  so  ;    but,  as  it  happens,  Mr.   Kipling  has  accidentally 
drawn  one  of  them  as  a  human  being  and  a  gentleman.     Mr. 
Prout,  who  is  wittily  called  "Hoofer,"  "Hoophah,"  "  Heify," 
and  "  Heffelinga,"  because  of  the  size  of  his  feet,  is  the  unhappy 
house-master  of.  Stalky  and  Co.     He  is  a  foolish  but  "  sensitive  " 
man  ;  his  hobby  is  "  the  honour  of  his  house,"  and  he  is  "  sincerely 
devoted  to  gaining  the  esteem  of  his  charges."    As  such  he  be- 
comes a  chief  target  for  ridicule.     Mr.   Kipling's  three  heroes 
make  songs  upon  him  and  mock  him  as  "  Popularity  Prout  "  ; 
they  exult  in  making  his  house,  as  they  euphemistically  put  it, 
"  a  happy  little  house  "  ;    they  outrage  him  in  every  form  and 
fashion  ;   they  had  discovered  his  "  weak  point,"  and,  to  quote 
Mr.  Kipling's  own  powerful  phrase,  "they  knew  well  how  to 
flick  him  on  the  raw." 

Y  337 


APPENDIX   III 

It  is  needless  to  add  anything  to  such  a  statement.  A  spice 
of  devilry  in  boys  is  often  not  altogether  a  bad  sign,  but  deliberate 
malignancy  is  wholly  vile,  and,  in  spite  of  Mr.  Kipling,  experience 
shows  that  boys  who  set  themselves  to  "  flick  "  a  weak  but  kindly 
master  "  on  the  raw  "  are  very  rarely  the  boys  who  turn  out  brave 
officers  or  distinguished  men.  Happily  too  they  are  very  rare  in 
public  schools.  If  Mr.  Kipling's  own  experiences  were  indeed 
such  as  he  depicts,  he  would  wisely  have  left  them  to  a  kind 
oblivion.  On  the  other  hand,  as  a  record  of  ordinary  school  life, 
his  book,  apart  from  other  defects,  is  a  gross  and  absolute  travesty 
of  facts. 


(II)   By  ARTHUR  H.   WALKER,   B.A.,   HEADMASTER'S 
ASSISTANT,  UNITED  SERVICES  COLLEGE,  WEST- 
WARD HO  ! 

The  publication  of  a  book  such  as  Mr.  Kipling's  "  Stalky  and  Co." 
must  necessarily  be  of  the  greatest  interest  to  all  the  scholastic 
profession,  and  especially  to  those  who  are  now  engaged  in  teaching 
at  Mr.  Kipling's  old  school  at  Westward  Ho  !  But  it  is  hardly 
fair  to  raise  the  direct  question  of  the  truth  or  falsity  of  the 
pictures  drawn  in  the  book.  Apart  from  the  necessary  predomi- 
nance of  "  the  imaginative  element  "  in  an  avowed  work  of  fiction, 
the  point  of  view  presented  is  that  of  a  boy.  To  expect,  therefore, 
an  accurate  view  of  the  relations  between  master  and  boy,  or 
between  master  and  master,  is  to  expect  the  impossible.  As  Mr. 
Kipling  expresses  it  elsewhere,  by  the  mouth  of  one  of  his  most 
famous  creations,  "  Too  much  bloomin'  background  in  front  !  " 
only  in  this  case  the  position  is  reversed.  The  background  is 
obscured  by  the  foreground.  In  other  words,  Mr.  Kipling  has 
remembered,  more  or  less  accurately,  various  events  of  his  school- 
days, and,  intentionally  or  unintentionally,  has  sacrificed  per- 
spective and  therefore  truth.  Still,  as  has  been  already  pointed 
out,  truth,  fer  se,  should  not  be  made  the  criterion  of  a  work  of  art. 

To  imagine  that  the  character  of  the  average  schoolboy  or  the 
average  schoolmaster  can  be  in  any  degree  gauged  by  this  book 
is  of  course  absurd.    There  are  no  "  Stalkys  " — ^if  there  were  they 

338 


APPENDIX   III 

would  be  as  abhorrent  in  real  life  as  they  are  amusing  in  fiction  ; 
there  are  no  "  Kings."  It  has  been  said  that  "  Stalky  and  Co." 
would  be  a  dangerous  book  to  put  into  the  hands  of  a  schoolboy. 
Dangerous  for  the  boy — yes  !  He  would  find  that  his  teachers 
are  not  Kings  or  Prouts  or  Hartopps,  nor  he  himself  successful 
as  a  rival  of  Stalky  or  Beetle.  It  is  possible  that  he  might  suffer 
grievously  ! 

In  fine,  to  criticize  Mr.  Kapling's  book  as  a  picture  of  school  life 
is  to  approach  it  from  entirely  the  wrong  standpoint.  To  pro- 
nounce on  its  merits  as  a  purely  literary  effort  may  be  left  to 
others  ;  the  schoolmaster  will,  for  the  most  part,  decline  to  regard 
it  as  in  any  way  affecting  him  or  his  work.  It  is  outside  his  pro- 
vince, and  foreign  to  all  his  experience. 

X.   BRITAIN'S  LIVING  SEER 

The  following  article  is  reprinted  from  "  Land  and  Water  "  of 
August  21,  191 5.  It  is  from  the  pen  of  Francis  Stopford,  the 
editor  of  that  journal,  who  has  kindly  permitted  me  to  make  use 
of  it  here. 

Kipling  would  have  won  fame  under  any  circumstances,  but 
he  never  would  have  become  the  Laureate  of  Empire,  so  ac- 
claimed by  all  men  Overseas  and  by  all  who  have  toiled  and 
suffered  Overseas,  were  it  not  for  the  golden  lessons  which  were 
taught  to  him  under  his  father's  roof -tree. 

The  miraculous  survival  of  the  Jewish  Nation  through  all  the 
centuries  is  attributed  in  no  small  degree  to  the  Fifth  Com- 
mandment, "  which  is  the  first  commandment  with  promise  "  ; 
but  we  are  apt  to  overlook  that  the  first  great  Christian  writer, 
himself  a  Jew  by  birth  and  upbringing,  St.  Paul,  while  com- 
mending this  commandment,  added  a  corollary  to  it  : 

Children,  obey  your  parents  in  the  Lord,  for  this  is  right.  And  ye 
fathers  provoke  not  your  children  to  wrath,  but  bring  them  up  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord. 

So  the  Christian  ideal  of  home  is  one  where  the  parent  is  both 
honoured  and  honouring,  and  the  child  is  both  obedient  and  gladly 

339 


APPENDIX   III 

and  spontaneously  renders  obedience.  But  in  that  "  we  are 
neither  children  nor  gods,  but  men  in  a  world  of  men,"  this  idea 
can  never  be  approached  unless  there  is  freedom  and  also  trust 
between  the  two  generations  and  unless  the  parent  is  prepared 
to  practise  that  abnegation  of  self  which  it  is  human  nature  for 
him  to  preach  to  the  young  and  is  willing  to  let  a  double  portion 
of  his  spirit  be  upon  the  sons  without  waiting  for  the  chariot  of 
Israel  and  the  horsemen  thereof.  It  was  in  such  a  home  that 
Kipling  spent  his  latter  boyhood  and  early  manhood. 

In  his  Preface  to  "  Life's  Handicap  "  he  mentions  that  "  a  few 
(of  these  tales),  but  these  are  the  very  best,  my  father  gave  me." 
The  italics  are  ours.  And  in  the  opening  chapter  of  "  Kim  " 
he  has  sketched,  with  that  delicate  sympathy  and  reverence  which 
only  deep  affection  can  inform,  his  father  as  the  Curator  of  the 
Wonder  House — ^his  father,  the  late  Mr.  Lockwood  Kiphng,  who 
in  his  day  had  the  reputation  of  knowing  more  about  India  than 
any  living  European.  And  his  love  for  his  mother,  "  the  wittiest 
woman  in  India,"  and  her  love  for  him,  have  followed  the  poet 
to  dizzier  heights,  to  blacker  depths  than  ever  he  foresaw  when  he 
penned  his  touching  "  Mother  o'  Mine."  Her  love  has  kept  his 
head  steady  and  his  feet  straight  amid  the  giddy  peaks  of  fame  ; 
her  tears  have  washed  the  sting  and  poison  from  the  wounds  which 
loss  and  disappointment  deal ;  her  prayers  have  made  him  whole, 
so  that  in  his  prime  he  can  compress  for  the  advantage  of  his  own 
son  all  that  life  has  contained  for  him — ^its  goodness  and  its  great- 
ness, its  ills  and  its  littleness — ^into  that  one  noble  poem  "  If." 

In  that  Lahore  household,  where,  as  we  may  gather  from  the 
Jungle  Books,  the  Law  prevailed,  the  spirit  of  which  was  Obey, 
the  Seer,  while  hardly  more  than  a  boy,  saw  the  vision  of  his  Race 
and  dreamed  his  dream  of  Empire,  which,  as  was  only  reasonable, 
was  after  the  fashion  of  his  home.  He  had  been  enabled  to  put 
forth  his  full  strength  in  the  orderly  and  honourable  freedom  of 
his  father's  house,  and  he  held  that  should  be  the  rule  of  the 
Empire.  He  had  been  permitted  to  perfect  his  individuality 
under  the  guidance  and  kindly  wisdom  of  his  elders,  without 
rough  rebuke  or  rude  interference,  and  so  he  maintained  it  was 
possible  for   the   Younger   Nations   to   do.      His   dedication  of 

340 


APPENDIX   III 

"  Soldiers  Three,"  one  of  his  earliest  books,  which  was  published 
in  India  when  his  literary  reputation,  at  least  out  there,  was  secure, 
ends  in  this  address  to  his  mother  : 

The  long  bazaar  will  f  raise,  but  thou — 
Heart  of  my  heart — have  I  done  well  P 

And  in  his  poem,  "  The  Young  Queen,"  written  on  the  inaugura- 
tion of  the  Commonwealth  of  Australia  (it  should  be  read  in  its 
entirety  ;  it  is  too  long  to  quote  here),  the  Young  Queen  answers 
the  Old  Queen,  her  Mother  :  "It  shall  be  the  crown  of  Our 
crowning  to  hold  Our  crown  for  a  gift."  He,  the  young  son,  had 
willingly  and  gladly  laid  at  his  mother's  feet  the  "  rude  figures 
of  a  rough -hewn  race,"  careless  of  other  praise,  so  long  as  she 
approved,  and  he  believed  the  same  sentiment  dominated  Aus- 
tralia's respect  for  England  and  voiced  it. 


J  Nation  spoke  to  a  Nation, 

A  Queen  sent  word  to  a  Throne, 
"  Daughter  am  I  in  my  mother's  house 

But  mistress  in  my  own.^'' 

Again,  the  same  home  idea,  but  this  time  it  is  Canada.  And  so 
through  all  his  writings  his  faith  in  the  love  and  strength  of  the 
home  is  undimmed,  yet  he  never  loses  sight  of  the  everlasting 
verity,  which  is  true  equally  of  individuals  and  nations,  of  house- 
holds and  empires,  that  sentiment  and  self-interest  are  the  woof 
and  warp  of  human  life.  If  not  interwoven,  the  threads  are 
fluttered  and  torn  by  every  wind  that  blows ;  but  let  the  shuttle 
be  plied  with  an  honest  hand  and  lo  !  a  texture  which  withstands 
the  roughest  weather. 

It  were  an  easy  thing,  were  the  space  available,  to  quote  the 
many  sayings  of  Rudyard  Kipling  that  have  been  fulfilled  in  these 
later  days.  Can  any  critic  who  sneered  at  "  The  Islanders  "  a 
dozen  years  ago  read  it  through  at  this  hour  without  remorse  ? 

Fenced  by  your  careful  fathers,  ringed  by  your  leaden  seas, 

Long  did  ye  wake  in  quiet  and  long  lie  down  at  ease  ; 

Till  ye  said  of  Strife,  "  What  is  it  ?  "  of  the  Sword,  "  It  is  far  from  our  ken  "  ; 

Till  ye  made  a  sfort  of  your  shrunken  hosts  and  a  toy  of  your  armed  men. 


APPENDIX    III 

Perhaps  even  more  remarkable  and  more  apposite  is  "  The  King's 
Task,"  a  ballad  that  is  published  in  "  Traffics  and  Discoveries  "  ; 
it  should  be  read  in  full  ; 

Our  pride  was  before  the  battle  :  our  sloth  ere  we  lifted  a  spar. 

But  now  we  are  purged  of  that  fever — cleansed  by  the  letting  of  blood, 
Something  leaner  of  body — something  keener  of  mood. 

Then  there  is  that  noble  epitaph  on  General  Joubert,  which  was 
written  during  the  South  African  War,  and  which  contains  these 
prophetic  lines  : 

Later  shall  rise  a  people,  sane  and  great. 

Forged  in  strong  -fires,  by  equal  war  made  one  ; 

Telling  old  battles  over  without  hate — 
Not  least  his  name  shall  pass  from  sire  to  son. 

The  Dreamer  has  never  been,  and  never  will  be,  a  favourite 
with  his  brethren.  He  comes  to  his  triumph  either  through  the 
long  processes  of  years  when  he  himself  is  gathered  to  his  fathers 
or  else  through  heroic  trials  which  test  his  words  in  strong  fires. 
Thereupon  he  disappears  if  his  dreams  do  not  come  true.  But 
with  Rudyard  Kipling  they  have  come  true,  terribly  true,  splen- 
didly true  in  this  day  of  Armageddon. 

His  conception  of  the  Empire  as  one  house,  where  the  head  is 
honoured  and  honours,  and  the  children  full  grown,  free  to  go 
their  own  ways,  are  glad  to  return  with  the  gift — "  Love  without 
promise  or  fee  " — ^is  the  right  conception.  It  has  withstood  the 
onset ;  the  pillars  have  not  fallen.  It  will  endure.  The  new 
Word,  "  Let  us  be  One,"  that  aforetimes  ran  "  whispering  o'er  the 
waste  of  the  ultimate  slime,"  and  at  which  our  enemies  mocked 
and  jeered,  now  rises  full -voiced  to  the  dome  of  heaven,  carried 
to  the  very  Throne  itself  by  the  Sons  of  the  Blood  who  have 
surrendered  their  own  lives  for  the  life  and  honour  of  that  England 
whom  they  call  Mother.  Kipling  to-day  enters  into  his  kingdom, 
and  we  can  salute  him  best  in  his  own  words  : 

Drawbridge  let  fall,  ifs  the  Lord  of  us  all, 
The  Dreamer  whose  dreams  come  true. 


342 


APPENDIX   III 


XI.  KIPLING  AND  THE  SENSE  OF 
PERSONAL  IDENTITY 

There  is  a  passage  in  "  Kim  "  which  relates  how  the  little  hero 
of  this  tale  meets  with  his  first  experience  of  utter  loneliness. 
We  read  of  the  boy's  contemplation  of  the  fascinating  question 
of  personal  identity,  and  the  thousand  doubts  and  fears  that 
spring  instant  to  the  clamour  of  his  cry,  "  Who  is  Kim — Kim — 
Kim  ?  "  The  awful  dread  attacks  Kim  while  he  is  seated  in  a 
noisy  railway  waiting-room.  For  a  few  intense  moments  all  else 
in  the  world  fades  to  impotence,  and  as  each  murderous  second 
ticks,  he  feels  that  he  is  getting  nearer  to  the  solution  of  the 
tremendous  puzzle — "  Who  is  Kim  P  "  At  last,  just  as  he  thinks 
he  is  about  to  solve  the  problem,  all  powers  of  reason  desert  the 
child,  and  he  finds  himself  suddenly  wrenched  back  in  the  flesh. 
Somebody  had  disturbed  him,  probably  a  passenger  when  moving 
from  the  seat.  Kipling  tells  us  that  Kim  stood  up  dazed  for  the 
moment,  "  pressing  his  hands  before  his  eyes  and  shaking  his  head." 
A  Hindu  holy  man  had  been  observing  the  spellbound  child  as 
he  wrestled  for  peace  with  the  demons  of  distress.  Perchance  the 
holy  man  as  a  child  had  repeated  his  own  name  over  and  over  again 
in  the  same  way,  until  the  fear  numbed  itself,  and  left  him  outdone 
and  faint,  for  Kipling  has  told  us  that  this  practice  of  throwing 
the  mind  into  a  kind  of  maze  by  the  repetition  of  a  name,  is  a 
feature  of  the  Oriental  soul.  A  little  further  on  in  the  chapter, 
Kipling  tells  the  reader  that  this  power  is  possessed  by  many 
Asiatics  and  a  few  Europeans.  I  have  in  my  possession  a  letter 
from  one  of  those  few  Europeans  who  describes  how  in  his  child- 
hood he  often  became  aware  of  an  oppressive  feeling  which 
terrified  him.  He  writes  :  "  When  the  spell  was  upon  me  my 
body  seemed  to  be  decreasing,  to  be  sinking  under  the  pressure  of 
the  tempestuous  fight  between  mind  and  body,  to  be  falling  down, 
down,  down,"  and  yet  "  I  was  still  above,  gazing,  wondering, 
open-eyed,  open-mouthed,  as  it  were."  This  feeling  is  described 
in  "  Kenelm  Chillingby  "  when  Kenelm  asks  his  mother  if  she  is 
ever  "  overcome  "  by  a  sense  of  her  own  identity,  and  when  this 

343 


APPENDIX   III 

mental  sensation  comes  the  subject  feels  that  he  is  being 
crowded  round  by  many  moving  "  ?'s  "  which  never  seem  to 
grow  distinct.  Lord  Tennyson  was  possessed  of  the  same  faculty, 
and  the  author  of  "  Kim  "  is  also  one  of  the  "  few  Europeans  " 
who  has  experienced  the  same  sensation.  The  following  letter, 
which  has  never  been  in  print  before,  is  exceedingly  interesting. 
I  have  it  on  the  high  authority  of  a  gentleman  who,  after  reading 
"  Kim,"  wrote  to  Kipling  on  the  subject  of  personal  identity 
and  received  this  reply  on  both  sides  of  a  grey  correspondence 
card  : 

I  have  not  come  across  any  medical  explanation  of  it,  but  it  may  perhaps 
be  due  to  the  natural  ferment  of  body  and  mind  in  youth  and  early  manhood. 
You  will  notice  in  your  own  child  that  the  sutures  of  the  skull  close  up  and 
harden  as  it  grows  older.  Similarly  (I  merely  suggest  this)  our  personal 
identity,  which  is  derived  from  our  ancestors,  may  at  first  be  a  mass  of 
impersonal  and  general  ideas  common  to  all  our  race,  but,  gradually,  as 
our  own  experiences  wake  and  develop  us  as  individuals  we  may  shed  the 
bundle  of  general  impressions  and  settle  down  to  our  more  limited  selves. 
I  don't  know  whether  I  have  made  myself  at  all  clear,  but  even  as  the 
embryo  in  the  womb  goes  through  all  stages  of  development  from  the  egg 
to  the  human  being,  so  our  minds  may  pass  through  similar  stages  of  mental 
development.    August  lo,  1909. 


XII.  BIBLIOGRAPHY  AND   CRITICISM 

During  the  last  few  years  there  has  been  much  talk  about  the 
decadence  of  Kipling.  It  is  true  that  the  tremendous  excitement 
that  once  his  poems  and  stories  aroused,  is  a  thing  of  the  past, 
and  that  the  "  KipHng  craze  "  passed  away  at  the  beginning  of  the 
century.  But  at  the  same  time  it  must  be  pointed  out  that  the 
two  questions,  "  Is  Kipling  as  popular  as  ever  ?  "  and  "  Is  his 
work  as  good  ?  "  are  not  the  same,  and  have,  as  we  all  know,  no 
logical  connection.  New  authors  drive  out  the  writers  of  yester- 
year because  they  bring  new  ideas  and  methods,  not  because 
they  bring  better  work.  Kipling  still  has  a  wide  range  of  sincere 
admirers,  and  if  his  public  has  dwindled,  it  is  because  he  has  been 

344 


APPENDIX    III 

SO  extensively  read.  A  journal  recently  asked  its  readers  to 
name  their  favourite  living  poets.  Kipling  headed  the  list  with 
22,630  votes.  His  nearest  competitor  received  5598  votes,  and 
only  three  others  received  more  than  a  thousand.  In  any  case, 
the  overv^helming  majority  for  Kipling  in  this  referendum  is 
indisputable,  and  it  shows  that  among  people  who  are  so  far 
interested  in  literature  as  to  take  the  trouble  to  register  their 
preference  Kipling  can  still  hold  his  own.  The  fairest  way  to 
determine  Kipling's  position  to-day,  is  to  compare  him  with  his 
contemporaries.  In  1890,  the  English  publishing  houses  placed  a 
thousand  works  of  fiction  before  the  public,  besides  the  famous 
"Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills."  How  many  of  those  volumes 
have  stood  the  test  of  a  few  years  ?  Let  us  look  at  a  list  of  the 
"best  sellers"  in  1890.  William  Black's  "Stand-Fast  Craig- 
Royston,"  Besant's  "Amorel  of  Lyonesse,"  Hall  Caine's  "Bond- 
man," Maarten  Maarten's  "The  Sin  of  Joost  Aveling,"  William 
Morris's  "News  from  Nowhere,"  Haggard  and  Lang's  "The 
World's  Desire,"  and  Edwin  Arnold's  "Phra  the  Phoenician." 
It  is  impossible  to  compare  the  present  popularity  or  circulation 
of  any  of  these  volumes  with  "  Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills."  In 
spite  of  the  fact  that  the  public  calls  most  for  recent  books  and 
decidedly  prefers  novels  to  short  stories,  the  "  Plain  Tales  "  still 
maintains  a  position  in  every  book-shop  and  public  library. 

Has  the  verse  of  Rudyard  Kipling  declined  in  the  public 
favour  ? 

"The  Seven  Seas"  was  published  in  1896.  The  same  year  I 
find  the  following  books  of  verse  were  looked  upon  as  the  cream 
of  the  publisher's  lists :  Swinburne's  "  The  Tale  of  Baden," 
William  Watson's  "Purple  East,"  Alfred  Austin's  "England's 
Darling,"  Stephen  Phillips's  "  Christ  in  Hades,"  and  Fiona 
Macleod's  "  From  the  Hills  of  Dawn."  How  many  lines  can  you 
quote  from  these  volumes  ?  What  is  their  value  when  compared 
to  a  single  volume  which  contains  "McAndrew's  Hymn,"  "The 
Song  of  the  English,"  "The  Last  Chantey,"  "The  Eathan  " 
and  "  L'Envoi  "  ? 

In  any  case,  a  revival  of  the  Kipling  cult  is  unmistakable  to-day. 

345 


APPENDIX   III 

Here  is  a  list  of  books  that  have  been  published  in  the  last  few 
months  : 

"  Rudyard  Kipling."    By  John  Palmer.     (Nisbet.) 

"  Rudyard  Kipling."    By  R.  T.  Hopkins.     (Digby,  Long  and  Co.) 

"Rudyard   Kipling:    A  Critical   Study."     By   Cyril   Falls.     {Martin 

Seeker.) 
"  A  Handbook  to  the  Poetry  of  Rudyard  Kipling."    By  Ralph  Durand. 

(Hodder  and  Stoughton.) 
"  Essays  by  Hubert."    By  Hubert  Bland.     (Max  Goschen.)    Contains 

an  essay  on  the  Decadence  of  Rudyard  Kipling. 

And  scarcely  a  week  passes  without  an  article  on  Kipling  in  some 
form  or  another  reaching  the  public.  The  publication  by  the 
Daily  telegraph,  Liverpool  Daily  Post,  Glasgow  Herald,  New 
Tork  Sun,  and  many  other  famous  newspapers  of  Kipling's 
"  France  at  War  "  is  a  potent  influence  in  reviving  interest  in 
his  work. 

The  earliest  book  written  on  Kipling  is  by  G.  F.  Monkshood — 
"  Rudyard  Kipling :  The  Man  and  his  Work "  (Greening, 
1899).  Mr.  Monkshood  with  all  his  good  intentions  is  without 
skill  as  a  critic  ;  he  likes  Kipling's  works  very  much,  and  finds 
great  pleasure  in  saying  so.  Unhappily,  there  his  authority  ends. 
Shorter  books  on  Kipling  are  that  by  W.  Roberton  entitled  "  The 
Kipling  Guide  Book  "  (The  Holland  Book  Co.,  Birmingham, 
1899),  and  that  by  Will  M.  Clemens  published  by  Morang  of 
Toronto  and  called  "  A  Ken  of  Kipling,"  and  the  "  Kipling 
Note  Book,"  published  in  New  York  by  M.  F.  Mansfield  and 
A.  Wessels  which  bears  no  printed  date,  but  is  stamped  by  the 
British  Museum  June  26,  1900.  "  Collectanea,"  a  volume  of 
reprinted  verses  containing  "The  Explanation,"  "Mandalay," 
"  Recessional,"  "  The  Rhyme  of  the  Three  Captains,"  and  "  The 
Vampire,"  was  published  by  Mansfield,  New  York,  in  1898.  In 
1900  "  A  Kipling  Primer,"  by  F.  L.  Knowles  (Chatto),  made  its 
appearance.  This  contains  a  bibliography  of  articles  relating  to 
Kipling  and  gives  a  hundred  magazine  references  from  1 891  to 
1900.  Richard  Le  Gallienne's  "  Rudyard  Kipling  :  A  Criticism," 
(John  Lane)  is  a  dispassionate  study  of  the  author's  outlook,  but 
it  comes  from  the  pen  of  a  writer  who  is  unfitted  by  taste  or 

346 


APPENDIX    III 

experience  for  such  a  task.     "  The  Literary  World,"  May  i8,  1900, 
printed  the  following  review  on  this  volume  : 

Delivered  as  a  popular  lecture,  Mr.  Le  Gallienne's  three  chapters  would 
no  doubt  score  a  success.  Regarded  as  criticism  they  rank  somewhat  on 
a  level  with  Mr.  Robert  Buchanan's  recent  article,  "The  Voice  of  the 
Hooligan,"  which  so  roused  the  ire  of  Sir  Walter  Besant.  Not  that  Mr. 
Le  Gallienne  condemns  utterly  or  fails  to  see  any  merit  in  Mr.  Kipling ; 
he  only  damns  persistently  with  faint  praise.  Of  "  Departmental  Ditties  " 
he  remarks  that,  "  from  a  literary,  or  any  serious,  point  of  view,  they  are 
hardly  more  important  than  Mr.  Kipling's  first  sailor  hat."  What,  we 
wonder,  would  be  Mr.  Kipling's  opinion  of  the  importance  of  Mr.  Le 
Gallienne's  criticism  ?  Out  of  "  Barrack  Room  Ballads  "  there  are  "  per- 
haps not  more  than  seven  that  one  cares  about  reading  again."  "The 
*  Other  Verses '  are  mainly  interesting  as  showing  what  Mr.  Kipling  cannot 
do."  "  Tomlinson,"  which  so  many  swear  by,  does  not  please  our  critic, 
or  at  least  "  once  having  been  introduced  to  him,  we  have  no  further  desire 
to  read  his  letter  of  introduction."  It  is  curious  to  find  that  Mr.  Le 
Gallienne  considers  "  Mary,  Pity  Women,"  in  "  The  Seven  Seas,"  "  supreme 
beyond  the  others  "  in  that  volume,  and  that  he  has  nothing  but  praise 
for  "  The  Shut-eye  Sentry,"  "  The  Ladies,"  "  The  Men  that  Fought  at 
Minden,"  and  "  Soldier  and  Sailor  Too."  Mr.  Le  Gallienne's  likes  and 
dislikes — chiefly  the  latter — are  with  similar  frankness  expressed  with  regard 
to  many  of  the  prose  works,  and  he  sums  up  his  judgment  in  the  words : 
"  As  a  writer  Mr.  Kipling  is  a  delight ;  as  an  influence  he  is  a  danger." 
That  may  be  a  good  judgment  or  not,  but  one  wonders  rather  that  Mr. 
Le  Gallienne  should  dare  to  write  as  follows :  "  It  is  Mr.  Kipling  and  his 
followers  who  are  the  true  end-of-the-century  decadents,  for  it  would  seem 
to  be  their  aim  to  begin  the  twentieth  century  by  throwing  behind  them  all 
that  the  nineteenth  century  has  won."  Mr.  Le  Gallienne  writes  smartly, 
but  with  exaggeration.  We  cannot  accept  him  as  an  impartial  critic,  the 
character  in  which  he  is  here  posing.  Mr.  John  Lane's  bibliography  at  the 
end  of  the  volume  strikes  us  as  being  of  more  lasting  service  than  the  earlier 
criticism. 

"  Word-Formation  in  Kipling  :  A  Stylistic-Philological  Study," 
by  W.  Leeb-Lundberg  (W.  Heffer  and  Sons,  Cambridge,  1909) 
is  an  ingenious  excursion  into  the  mysteries  of  stylistic  philology, 
and  contains  an  outline  of  Kipling's  books  and  interesting  notes 
on  the  author's  general  characteristics.  George  Routledge  and 
Sons  publish  a   "  Kipling  Dictionary,"   by  W.  Arthur  Young, 

347 


APPENDIX    III 

which  gives  all  the  characters  and  scenes  in  the  stories  and  poems 
of  Kipling  from  1886  up  to  191 1. 

Vicomte  Robert  D'Humieres  in  his  "  Through  Isle  and  Empire  " 
gives  an  interesting  account  of  a  visit  to  Kipling  at  Rottingdean, 
and  also  prints  in  this  volume  a  prefatory  letter  by  Kipling. 
"  Playthings  and  Parodies,"  by  Barry  Pain  (Cassell,  1896)  contains 
imitations  of  Rudyard  Kipling's  style.  References  to  Kipling 
will  be  found  in  "  The  New  Machiavelli,"  by  H.  G.  Wells,  "A 
Christmas  Garland,"  by  Max  Beerbohm  (Heinemann),  "The 
Red  Pagan,"  by  A.  G.  Stephens  (The  Bulletin  Co.,  Sydney), 
"  War's  Brighter  Side,"  by  Julian  Ralph  (C.  Arthur  Pearson,  Ltd., 
1901),  "Provincial  Letters  and  other  Papers"  (Smith,  Elder 
and  Co.,  1906),  "The  Egregious  English,"  by  Angus  McNeil 
(Grant  Richards,  1903),  "The  Novel-Reader's  Handbook,"  by 
William  Roberton  (Holland  Company,  1899),  "English  Litera- 
ture :  Modern,"  by  G.  H.  Mair  (Williams  and  Norgate),  "  Essays 
in  Little,"  by  Andrew  Lang  (Henry,  1891),  "  Questions  at  Issue," 
by  Edmund  Gosse  (Heinemann,  1893),  Paul  Elmer  More's 
"  Shelburne  Essays,"  second  series  (1905),  "  Books  and  Playbooks," 
by  Brander  Mathews  (Osgood,  1895),  "Essays  on  Modern 
Novelists,"  by  W.  L.  Phelps  (1910),  "  Guesses  at  Truths,"  by 
David  Christie  Murray  (Hurst  and  Blackett,  1908).  "  The  Empire 
and  the  Century  "  (John  Murray)  contains  "  The  Heritage," 
a  poem  by  Kipling  which  has  not  been  collected  in  any  of  his 
volumes.  "The  Bibelot  "  (Mosher,  Portland,  Maine,  1897), 
Vol.  Ill,  reprints  "  Letters  of  Marque,"  selections  from  a 
suppressed  book  by  Kipling.  "Poets  on  the  Isis,"  by  Wilfred 
Blair,  contains  the  following  parodies  :  "  Butler  An'  Ousemaid, 
Too,"  "  L'Envoyaging,"  and  "The  Ballad  of  Age  and  Youth." 
Many  good  parodies  of  Kipling  may  be  found  in  T.  W.  H.  Cros- 
land's  "  Five  Notions  "  (Grant  Richards,  1903).  "  The  Eighteen- 
Nineties,"  by  Holbrook  Jackson,  contains  a  lengthy  chapter  on 
Kipling.  (This  book  is  published  by  Mitchell  Kennerley  in  New 
York  and  by  Grant  Richards  in  London.)  Mr.  Holbrook  Jackson's 
study  of  Rudyard  Kipling  is  well  rounded  and  complete,  and  is  a 
valuable  addition  to  the  bulky  catalogue  of  Kiplingiana.  A.  C. 
Benson  deals  with  "  Stalky  and  Co."  in  "  The  Upton  Letters." 


APPENDIX   III 

A.  G.  Gardiner  has  written  a  short  sketch  on  Kipling  (very  partisan, 
naturally)  in  "Prophets,  Priests,  and  Kings,"  and  in  the  paper  on 
"  February  "  in  Quiller-Couch's  "  From  a  Cornish  Window  " 
there  is  a  valuable  judgment  on  Kipling's  ideals  as  expressed  in  his 
imperial  and  political  poems. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Academy,  The,  206 

Adcock,  St.  John,  264 

"  Affront  to  Ganesha,"  192 

Aldrich,  Dean,  287 

"  All  Expenses  Paid,"  59 

Allen,  Grant,  71 

"  Anchor  Song,  The,"  217-218 

Anglo-African  Writers'  Club,  146 

Argonaut y  The  (American),  179 

Artists'  Benevolent  Fund,  147 

Athenaeum,  The,  169 

"  Ave  Imperatrix,"  32 

Bain,  F.  W.,  14 

Balestier,  Caroline,  25 

Balestier,  Wolcott,  25 

"  Ballad  of  Reading  Gaol,"  4,  5 

"Ballad    of    the    Bolivar,    The," 

166 
"  Bailed  oi  the  Clamphndozon,rhe,'' 

219 
«  Ballad  of  the  King's  Jest,"  44 
Bandar-Log  (Monkey  People),  196 
"  Banjo  Bard,"  216 
Barr,  Robert,  24 

"  Barrack  Room  Ballads,"  39,  285 
Baudelaire,  204,  295 
"  Batemans,"  234 
Beardsley,  Aubrey,  5,  6 
"  Beast  and  Man  in  India,"  187 
Bees,  197 
"  Beetle,"  209 
"  Bell  Buoy,  The,"  53 
Bellman,  The,  75 


"  Benefactors,  The,"  89 

Beresford,  Lord  Charles,  148 

"  Bertram  and  Bimi,"  138 

Besant,  Walter,  169,  170,  171 

Biblical  language,  43 

Bilbao,  166 

"  Birds  of  Prey  March,"  251 

Black,  William,  169 

"  Black  Man's  Burden,  The,' 

Blair,  Wilfrid,  324 

Blake,  Felicia,  117 

"  Blind  Bug,  The,"  9 

Boer  War,  157 

"  Bolivar,"  166 

"  Bonds  of  Discipline,"  40 


22' 


Boots, 


155 


Borrow,  George,  270 
Bradley,  Doctor,  281 
Bratleboro,  25 
Breitmann,  Hans,  138 
Bridge,  Sir  F.,  150 
Bridges,  Major,  151 
British  Weekly,  The,  147 
"  Brugglesmith,"  11 1 
"  Brushwood  Boy,  The,"  66 
Brutality,  III,  115,  116 
Buchanan,  Robert,  170,  171 
Buddha,  105 

Bulletin,  The  (Sydney),  127 
Burne- Jones,  Lady,  22 
Burne- Jones,  Philip,  116 
Burleigh,  Bennet,  26 
Burton,  Sir  Richard,  5 
Burwash,  234-235 


353 


INDEX 


Cade,  Jack,  238 

Candler,  Edmund,  104 

Cantab,  The,  145 

"  Canterville  Ghost,  The,"  135 

"  Captains  Courageous,"  215 

Car,  The,  148 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  214,  215 

"Cat    that    Walked    by    Himself, 

The,"  183 
Cecil  Club's  Dinner,  148 
"  Chant-Pagan,"  256,  260 
Chapin,  George,  238 
"  Chaplain  of  the  Fleet,"  170 
Chesterton,  G.  K.,  236-237 
Chicago,  82,  83,  85 
Children,  Kipling's  love  for,  71,  72 
"  Christmas  in  India,"  221 
"  City  of  Sleep,  The,"  6j 
Civil  and  Military  Gazette,  The,  22 
Cobb,  I.  S.,  239 
Collins,  John,  287 
Contemporary  Review,  170 
"  Conversion  of  St.  Wilfrid,  The," 

232 
"  Copperfield,  David,"  163 
Cottar,  George,  66 
"  Crab  that  Played  with  the  Sea, 

The,"  188 
Crosland,  T.  W.  H.,  11 

Daily  Telegraph,  275 

"  Danny  Deever,"  8 

"  Digit  of  the  Moon,  A,"  14 

Din,  Muhammad,  72 

"  Dingley,  the  Famous  Writer,"  57 

"  Doctors,"  148 

Dogs,  Kipling's  love  for,  282 

Douglas,  James,  118, 

Doyle,  Dr.  C.  W.,  192 

Dumas,  Alexandre,  187 

Durand,  Mr.  Ralph,  251 

Eddi,  233 

354 


Elliot,  Gertrude,  176 
Etchingham,  232 

Falls,  Cyril,  102,  291 

Ferguson,  J.  De  Lancey,  217 

"  Files,  The,"  206 

"  Finest  Story  in  the  World,  The," 

.74 

FitzGerald,  Edward,  204 

"  Five    Nations,    The,"    146,    260, 

263,  274 
"  For  All  We  Have  and  Are,"  76 
Forbes-Robertson,  176 
"  France  "  (Verses),  278 
"  France  at  War,"  275-277 
Free  Review,  73,  331 
Free  Trade,  Kipling  and,  234 
Friend,  The  (Bloemfontein),  26 

Ganesha,  193 

"  Garm — a  Hostage,"  271,  281-282 

"  Gentlemen  Rankers,  The,"  286 

"  Gipsy  Trail,  The,"  221 

Gissing,  George,  12 

Gosse,  Edmund,  261 

"  Habitation  Enforced,  An,"  238 
"Half-Ballad  of  Waterval,   The," 

260 
Hanumann,  140 
Hardy,  Thomas,  169,  227 
Harman,  Captain,  107 
Harper's  Magazine,  8,  136 
Hay,  Colonel  John,  128 
Hearn,  Lafcadio,  13,  295 
"  Heifer  of  the  Dawn,  A,"  14 
Heldar,  Dick,  7,  212 
Hendric,  EUwood,  280 
Henley,  William  Ernest,  8,  255 
Holmescroft,  136 
"  House  Surgeon,  The,"  134-137 
"  How  the  Leopard  got  his  Spots," 

186 


INDEX 


Idler,  The,  i88 

"If ,"127 

"  Islanders,"  reply  to  Kipling's,  320 
"  Islanders,  The,"  341 
"  In  the  Firing  Line,"  264 
"  Incarnation  of  Krishna  Mulvaney, 
The,"  3 

Jackson,  Holbrook,  89,  256,  313 
Jackson,  Sergeant  M.  C,  253 
Jefferies,  Richard,  15,  270 
Jewish  Nation,  339 
Jingoism,  255 
Jo  Khang  Temple,  104 
Jones,  Paul,  170 
Joubert,  General,  342 
"  Jungle  Book,"  194-197 

Kabir,  14 

Kellner,  Dr.,  212-213 

Khan,  Bahadur,  138 

Khayyam,  Omar,  123-129,  204 

"  Kim,"  13,  93-108,  210,  273,  275, 

343 

Kipling,  John,  Lockwood,  19,  340 
Kipling,  Rev.  Joseph,  19 

Ladies'  Home  Journal  (American), 

154 

Land  and  Water,  339 

Lang,  Andrew,  145 

Le  Gallienne,  Richard,  316 

"  Lichtenberg,"  157,  256 

"  Life's  Handicap,"  340 

"  Light  that  Failed,  The,"  175-179 

"  Lincolnshire  Poacher,  The,"  149 

Lippincotfs  Monthly  Magazine,  6 

London  Review,  The,  146 

Loti,  Pierre,  211,  212 

Lucas,  E.  v.,  235 

Lurgan  Sahib,  97,  275 

"  M.  L,"  259 

Macdonald,  Rev.  George  B.,  19 


McClure's  Magazine,  23 

"  Madness     of     Private     Ortheris, 

The,"  73 
Maisie,  176 
Malay  Magic,  189 
"  Mandalay,"  274 
"Mark  of  the  Beast,   The,"    139, 

192 
"  Mary  Gloster,  The,"  317 
"  Mary,  Pity  Women  !  "  224 
Matthews,  Brander,  56 
Matthews,  Elkin,  19 
McGill  University,  147,  151 
McTurk,  209 
Messua,  199 

Methodist  strain  in  Kipling,  215 
Middlesex  Hospital,  147 
Monkshood,  G.  F.,  112 
Moore,  Frankfort,  147 
Moore,  George,  210-21 1 
More,  Paul  Elmer,  123 
Mosher,  Thomas  B.,  128 
"  Mother  Hive,  The,"  197 
Mowgli,  189,  194,  198,  199 
Mozart,  223 
Mulvaney,  Terence,  258,  262,  285, 

288  note 
"  Murders    in    the    Rue    Morgue, 

The,"  139 
Musical  Settings,  330 
National  Observer,  8 
National  Review,  89 
National  Service  League,  148 
"  New  Army  in  Training,  The,"  87, 

262,  328 
New  South  Wales  Trooper,  157 
Newbolt,  Sir  Henry,  150,  325 
Newman,  Ernest,  73,  331 
Newton,  W.  Douglas,  148 
Ngpak-pas,  The,  105 
Niven,  Frederick,  292 
Northern  Himalaya,  107 
Norton,  Professor  Charles  Eliot,  21 

355 


INDEX 


Noyes,  Alfred,  326 
Nursery  rhymes,  18 


"  Old  Issue,  The,"  146 
"  Old  Man  Kangaroo,"  190 
"  Only  a  Subaltern,"  149 
"  Other  People's  Wings,"  118 
Outlook^  The,  9 

Page,  T.  E.  (Master  at  Charter- 
house), 334 

Pall  Mall  Magazine,  55 

Parnell  Commission,  9 

Parodies  of  Kipling's  Verse,  320, 
322,  325 

Pau  Amma,  189 

Personal  Identity,  Kipling  and,  343 

Phelps,  Josephine  Hart,  179 

"  Picture  of  Dorian  Gray,  The,"  6 

Pioneer,  The  (Allahabad),  9,  19, 
289 

Price,  Cormell,  246 

Protective  colouring,  186 

"  Puck  of  Pook's  Hill,  231,  269 

Punch,  5,  6,  322 

"  Purple  Island,"  Fletcher's,  245 

Pusat  Tasek,  189 

Pyecroft,  Emanuel,  261 

"  Quest  of  the  Golden  Girl,  The," 
317 

"  Rabbi's  Song,  The,"  136 

Ramsay,  Sir  William,  280 

Rangoon,  295 

"  Recessional,  The,"  207,  227 

Recruiting  Bands,  150 

Regiment,  The,  328 

"  Return,  The,"  260 

"  Return  of  Imray,  The,"  137 

"  Return  of  the  Children,  The,"  67 

Review  of  Reviews,  214 

356 


Review  of  the  Week,  83,  247 

"  Rewards  and  Fairies,"  231,  269 

Rheims,  Kipling's  visit  to,  277 

Rhodes,  Cecil,  214 

"  Rhyme  of  the   Three   Captains, 

The,"  169 
Robinson,  E.  K.,  23 
Romulus,  189 
"  Round  Tower,  The,"  71 
Royal  Academy  Banquet,  147 
Royal   Geographical    Society,    148, 

154 

Ruskin,  163 

St.  Barnabas,  Church  of,  232 

Salome,  5 

Savoy,  The,  12 

Schoolboys,  Kipling's,  334 

Scots  Observer,  8 

Scribners'  Magazine,  69 

"  Sea  and  the  Hills,  The,"  165 

Seaman,  Sir  Owen,  316 

Sea  Chantey,  218 

Secret  Service,  The  (Indian),  105 

Seer,  Kipling  as  a,  339 

Seven  Seas,  meaning  of,  204 

Sewalik  Range,  274 

Smell,  Kipling's  sense  of,  273-281 

"  Smuggler's  Song,"  234 

"  Snarleyow,"  116 

"  Soldiers  Three,"  261 

"  Some  Aspects  of  Travel,"  154 

"  Song  of  Kabir,  The,"  15 

"  Song  of  the  Banjo,  The,"  149 

"  Song  of  the  Cities,"  295 

"  Song  of  the  White  Man,  A,"  26 

Sorcery,  97 

Spectator,  The,  139,  188 

"  Stalky  &  Co.,"  243-248 

"  Stalky's  School-Song,"  321 

Stevenson,  R.  L,,  156,  209 

Stonehenge,  270 

Stopford,  Francis,  339 


INDEX 


"  Story  of  Muhammad  Din,  The," 

71 

Sussex,  240 

"  Sussex  "  (Verses),  269 

Svastika,  193 

Swinburne,  A.  C,  166,  269 

Tagore,  Rabindranath,  14,  15 

"  Taking  o£  Lungtungpen,  The," 

285 
"  Taming  of  the  Jungle,  The,"  191 
Taylor,  F.  Walter,  136 
Tharaud,  Jerome  and  Jean,  57 
"  They,"  6j,  68,  69,  70,  71 
Ti  Rimpoche,  The,  105 
T^imes,  The,  151,  157,  158 
"Tipperary,"  150,  293 
Tommy,  155 
Torpenhow,  176-178 
"Toy  Band,  The,"  151 
"  Traffics  and  Discoveries,"  261 
Trigonometrical    Survey   of    India, 

107 
"  Troopin',"  285 
Tsang-po,  The,  107 
Tw^ain,  Mark,  50-54 


"  Unqualified  Pilot,  An,"  228 
United  Services  College,  338 

"  Vampire,  The,"  116-119 
Vermont,  U.S.A.,  55 
Viljoen,  General,  254 

Walker,  Arthur  H.,  338 

Wanderlust,  221 

"  War,"  148 

"  War's  Brighter  Side,"  26 

Weald  (Sussex),  269 

Westminster  Gazette,  257 

Wheeler  &  Co.,  A.  H.,  3 

"  Whirlpool,  The,"  12 

"  White  Man's  Burden,  The,"  222 

Wilde,  Oscar,  4,  5,  6,  9,  12,  13,  73, 

135,213 
Wilfrid,  233 

Windsor  Magazine,  21,  228 
Wordsvi^orth,  10 

Yeats,  W.  B.,  4,  5 
Yellow  Book,  The,  5 
Younghusband,  Sir  Francis,  104 

Zangwill,  Israel,  55,  150 


SiMPKiN,  Marshall,  Hamilton, 
Kent  «5^  Co.  Ltd. 


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